


Ghost of You

by kristhaswaggerdaddy



Category: EXO (Band), Ghost in the Shell (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Cyborgs, Dubious Consent, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Multi, Platonic Cuddling, Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-02 04:03:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 59,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13310022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristhaswaggerdaddy/pseuds/kristhaswaggerdaddy
Summary: In the future, the line between human and machine is disappearing. Hanka Robotics, funded by the government, is developing a military operative that will blur the line further. Thus, Kyungsoo enters the yakuza world as EXO’s Major, with no idea what humans are truly capable of.





	1. because we need electricity (city lights gotta glow for me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jongdaesang (d10smessi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/d10smessi/gifts).



> h-hewwo,,, Firstly, this is not my first time joining a fest but it is my first time being invited to join one!!!! I’m so heppi and honoured tbh??? So I just wanna thank the mods for reaching out and saying very nice things to lube butter me up until I said yessss yasssssss take meeeeee. Also I want to thank my last-minute beta (she was unfortunately too busy to actually beta this fic but thanks for volunteering!) and my own bitch/hoe/soulmate, S. We’re going to meet this month and I’m EXTREMELY excited. Going to be fantastic hage, unbelievable hago…  
> Also, this fic was a monster mash of everything I liked in 2017, so a lot of combining all sorts of shit! Hopefully, it reads well. I’ve never had to be THIS descriptive before, but this fic really tested me.  
> Please leave me comments if you loved my fic (or me)

Kyungsoo glanced down the hallway.

Left, right, then again. _No one_ , he thought. Good.

Swinging his jacket over his shoulder, he took quiet steps as he walked. It helped that he wore socks; he hardly made a sound when he emerged in the living space. Again, there was not a soul in sight. Perfect, Kyungsoo smiled to himself. The lights were all off, save for the tall lamp in the corner. It brought out the shadows of the night, like layers of darkness upon the furniture in the room. Kyungsoo could practically taste escape on his lips.

Just as Kyungsoo was admiring the city nightscape, blue and pink colouring the roads, he was blinded by lights washing out his vision. He threw an arm over his face, and after a moment to allow his eyes adjust, he looked up, scowling.

“Where did you think you were gonna go?” Chanyeol said flatly, leaning against the wall by the light switch.

“Out,” Kyungsoo growled.

“Then why were you sneaking?” Chanyeol lifted himself off the wall with one foot. Kyungsoo had forgotten how quiet Chanyeol could be when he wanted to. How had he missed Chanyeol’s ever glowing left eye too? There was no way Kyungsoo could’ve missed Chanyeol’s goddamned enhanced red eye, unless… he’d shut that eye and stood in the darkness, listening with his enhanced ears.

Damn, Chanyeol was catching up to him. But what Kyungsoo had not forgotten was that he could still take Chanyeol down, if things really came down to it. 

“’Cause you bitches won’t let me leave,” Kyungsoo said defiantly.

“If you tell us where you’re going, we can reconsider,” a voice said sweetly in his ear. Kyungsoo twisted and swung an arm around, expecting his fist to connect with Baekhyun’s face. Instead, he struck nothing and came face to face with the man himself, mere inches from Kyungsoo’s grip. Baekhyun had a smug smile on his face that Kyungsoo wanted to wipe off.

“You have to stop trying to kill all of us, y’know,” Baekhyun said, tutting away. He sauntered past Kyungsoo, hands in his pockets.

“I wouldn’t be if you’d let me out,” Kyungsoo retorted. And he wouldn’t have killed Baekhyun with that swing anyway; he’d used his normal arm instead of his cyber-enhanced one. Chanyeol shook his head in mock disappointment, his poodle hair curls springing lightly with the motion. “We keep telling you, Major,” he said, “you gotta tell us where.”

 _Jesus,_ Kyungsoo thought.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun were taking babysitting duty way too seriously. It wasn’t like Kyungsoo couldn’t protect himself anyway. “Is a trip to the super mart too much to ask for?” Kyungsoo said, trying for pity even though he knew it wouldn’t work on the Nanny Squad. They were too tough for that (despite the nickname Kyungsoo had come up with for them).  

“Huh,” Baekhyun huffed, “you mean take a short trip down to the super mart and then run off to God knows where for the entire night, _and then_ come back home, drunk and possibly in the nude? Not on our watch.”

Kyungsoo threw his hands up in exasperation. Honestly, it was just that _one_ time when he caught Chanyeol and Baekhyun making out on the job and Kyungsoo managed to sneak out and partied the night away in some seedy nightclub when they were in Tokyo. Fun, but he got a hell of a scolding from his father, and it almost cost Chanyeol and Baekhyun their jobs. Not nearly worth the fun but… still kind of fun.

“I swear, all I want is some chips and a Coke,” Kyungsoo said, trying one last time.

“Fine,” Chanyeol shrugged, “what flavour? Salt and vinegar as usual? I’ll get them for you.”

Kyungsoo smiled, an idea already blossoming in the back of his mind. “I knew I could count on you, Chanyeol.”

While Chanyeol put on his shoes and discussed what to get for dinner with Baekhyun, Kyungsoo tried to act as normal as possible when walking back to his room. As soon as he shut the door, he twisted the lock quietly and went over to the window.

Kyungsoo was living on the fifth floor of a fifteen-storey condo, but thankfully there was a private pool and garden area on the third floor just for the residents. That meant he could climb out the window, clamber down the ledges on the side of the building and land safely on the ground just two floors below. Then it was just a matter of getting to the elevator right after— not before— Chanyeol.

Easy enough. Except Baekhyun had sharp ears and Kyungsoo was going to have to climb down fast enough without getting caught. A locked door wasn’t going to stop Baekhyun, that trigger-happy motherfucker with his hands enhanced specifically for perfect aim.

Kyungsoo wasted no time in slipping out the window at once, making sure he was balanced before he swung his body downwards, fingers gripping the narrow ledge. He could hear the quiet whizzes in his enhanced arm working to hold his entire weight. As usual, Hanka Robotics did not disappoint; he moved seamlessly from one floor down to the next without so much as a hitch. If there was one thing good about being who he was, then it was the free cybernetic enhancements that came with the job.

There was a little girl studying on her tablet on the fourth floor, as he could see from the window. Her back was facing Kyungsoo, thank the Lord; otherwise he would probably get some freaked out mother knocking on his front door tomorrow morning. Still, he smiled to himself at that.

Kyungsoo would pay good money to see Chanyeol trying to explain everything away to a mother without revealing who was truly living on the fifth floor.

He landed on the balls of his feet when he finally got close enough to the ground to jump. And not a moment too soon; he thought he saw someone moving in his room.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself. Baekhyun must’ve blown out the locks. Again. Oh well, it was time to get running.

“Kyungsoo!” Baekhyun’s voice bellowed. Kyungsoo ran as fast as he could towards the elevator, adrenaline forcing his entire body forward. Bullets were fired at his feet, not to hurt him but to warn him. Kyungsoo held up a middle finger in the air without turning around, biting back a wide grin.

He was probably going to get into trouble after this, but with the wind in his hair and the entire city in his hands, Kyungsoo couldn’t give a fuck right now.

 Kyungsoo burst out onto the streets and immediately headed in the opposite direction from where he knew Chanyeol would be, at the super mart. He waved his hands wildly at the streets as he walked briskly, trying to wave a vacant cab down. Kyungsoo had no idea where he was gonna go, but he had enough cash to last the night.

One screeched to a stop just a few feet in front of him soon enough, and Kyungsoo got in.

“Where to?” the driver asked roughly. He flicked a switch, and the holograms hovering around the taxi changed colours, from green to red. Kyungsoo knew the holograms now indicated that the taxi was occupied.

“Just drive,” Kyungsoo replied, removing his phone from his jacket. He knew the Nanny Squad’s step, and was going to beat them to it. He pried the back cover of his phone apart and pulled the battery out. Then he shoved everything into the inner pocket of his jacket, for a later time when he needed his phone.

Kyungsoo was glad he’d foregone transmitters. Those were harder to ignore, since they were directly wired to one’s head. But now, Kyungsoo had one night’s worth of freedom. No Nanny Squad, no demands, nothing. He couldn’t wait to get wasted.

-

“Kyungsoo! Haven’t seen you in these parts for a while now,” Luhan’s voice called. Kyungsoo turned around in the booth, a glass of bourbon in his hand and a handful of ass in the other. There were at least four girls crammed in his booth, two dancing on the leather seats and another grinding on his lap. The fourth was— trying to take off his pants?

“I’m celebrating,” Kyungsoo laughed, waving Luhan over.

He was an old friend who managed the nightclub Kyungsoo was currently in, Cuvee. The club was in a seedier part of Tokyo, Roponggi, and it was one of the last places that the Nanny Squad would think to look for Kyungsoo. Plus, the music was loud in the club, booming and thrumming through Kyungsoo’s body. And it was dark enough in here that it took practice even for an enhanced eye to pick out a familiar face in the crowd.

Oh, and Luhan would never rat him out. Cuvee was _perfect_ , down to the holographic dancing girls and top-of-the-shelf liquor.

“Are you? What’s the occasion?” Luhan came over, his gold-tipped shoes clinking against the floor. Luhan was cyber enhanced, of course, like Kyungsoo. A transmitter blinked red at his temple, signalling he had a call on hold. That was normal enough, but the work done to the rest of him lacked Hanka’s refined touch.

Luhan had a robotic right hand, and a red line ran along his wrist, revealing the point where his own body ended and a cyber enhanced part began. The joints and wires were completely exposed to Kyungsoo’s view, left completely unprotected, unlike Kyungsoo’s arm.

Rumour had it he’d lost his hand when his parents were ghosthacked and went on a murdering spree. Luhan had been their first victim, losing his hand as he tried to stop his parents but survived the blood loss out of sheer will.

Luhan poured himself a glass of bourbon with said hand, taking the decanter out from the hidden shelf under the table and motioned for the girls to move so he could sit. His fingers couldn’t move quite fluidly, but it wasn’t a strange sight in these parts. Everyone had had work done, some way or other. Refined work simply was not a selling point here.  

One of the girls proceeded to dance on the table instead, her eyes winking neon blue in the dark, while the other two left the booth, sensing Kyungsoo wouldn’t be paying attention to all of them.

Only the one hovering on Kyungsoo’s lap seemed unaffected by it all. It took a closer look to realize she was an AI, and it would take a verbal command for her to stop. He did, whispering a quick no in her ear. She immediately obeyed, getting up in an eerie manner that only robots could manage and stalked off. Kyungsoo would’ve thought she was annoyed if he didn’t know any better.

“I see your AIs are getting better and better,” Kyungsoo remarked. An AI like her was also fondly referred to as a dancing girl, built specifically for clients to enjoy. However, if Kyungsoo had known she was an AI, he would’ve refused. There was nothing like holding a human body in his arms, with a mind that he could never control or predict.

“Nothing as remarkable as your arm, though,” Luhan said, glancing at Kyungsoo’s left arm, “the way it moves is beautiful, nothing like what we have here.”

“It’s alright,” Kyungsoo shrugged at Luhan’s compliment.

Kyungsoo liked to think of his normal arm as his Good arm, the one he used to write with, and the other enhanced one as the Better arm. It had been a birthday gift when he turned 18; from Hanka Robotics to Kyungsoo. He’d been one of a dozen men who’d been chosen to try out Hanka’s latest enhancement at the time, this one specifically designed for battle. It was made of entirely out of metal, with smaller parts assembled together like pieces of a puzzle for better movement. As such Kyungsoo had no qualms about using it to smash through a cement wall or taking a bullet (or several) with it because he wouldn’t be paying for the damages.

It was one of the perks of being the Major in EXO, Hanka Robotics’ unofficial group of hired thugs to protect billion-dollar corporate interests. In other words, Kyungsoo’s family was a glorified yakuza group, backed by one of the biggest companies specializing in cybernetic enhancements. 

Unfortunately, the downside of being the Major was that he had to be coddled, protected until the Commander— Kyungsoo’s father— retired. Kyungsoo’s father regarded this as a family business of sorts and wanted his only son to pick up where he would leave off. Kyungsoo was supposed to step up at twenty years old. Now nineteen, Kyungsoo knew his time was running out.

“A pity though, that you’ve forgone skins,” Luhan commented, “I hear Hanka’s skins are so good, you’d never be able to tell where you had work done.”

“Skins are a pain,” Kyungsoo chuckled, “all I do every day is whack it around and see how long it takes before I need to get a replacement.” To say he was masochistic when it came to his Better arm would be an understatement. As much as he appreciated the work that went into it, sometimes he couldn’t see it as any more than a hunk of metal. Skin sessions were also too expensive and long for Kyungsoo to bother with.

“So, what’s the Major doing in my humble establishment? Surely you’re rolling in enough money to afford any kind of dancing girl you could even want,” Luhan said, sipping at his bourbon. It was no secret that Hanka paid their thugs very well. In cash and in cyber enhancements.

“I got away from the Nanny Squad and needed a place to blow off steam,” Kyungsoo said, his tone matter-of-fact. Chanyeol and Baekhyun would have to drag him kicking and screaming if he didn’t get his fill of girls and alcohol before the night was over.

“My, my, Major,” Luhan drawled, “so you’ve run off? Again? What would the Commander have to say about that?”

Kyungsoo didn’t care what the Commander might have to say. Or to put it more aptly, Kyungsoo _wished_ he didn’t have to care.

Becoming the next Commander was no easy task. Not because he would become one of the most infamous yakuza group’s leader, but because he would have to protect a company that was not completely innocent of all the crimes it was accused of.

After all, cybernetic enhancement required experiments, and no one was stupid enough to just lie down on a surgery table and let the Hanka scientists have their way with them, poking and prodding.

So, Hanka Robotics needed guinea pigs, so to speak. Live ones. Luckily, they were not short on enemies, and most of the time, EXO men would be dispatched to take them out. And under no circumstances could the victims be brought back dead. All of them, every last foot soldier, had to be brought to Hanka alive.

Whatever might happen next to these victims was out of EXO’s hands, but Kyungsoo knew the perfect work that was his arm did not happen in a single day. It was the result of many failures before finally achieving seamless, human-like performance. This was the dark secret to Hanka’s success in the technological field, because most companies weren’t ruthless enough to experiment illegally on humans. Thus they lagged behind in performance, while Hanka was raking in millions every day in being able to blur the line between human and machine.

What was that saying again, about Rome and how it wasn’t built in a day? Well, Hanka Robotics’ success in cybernetic enhancements could relate to that. It came from building on the backs of their victims over years of cover ups and lies.

Maybe Kyungsoo was weak for feeling guilty for these faceless victims, for the people he’d never met. Perhaps some deserved their fate. Perhaps some didn’t. But as a Major, he didn’t have the luxury to feel pity or mercy. And if he were to become Commander, he’d have to be colder than ice to do the things he knew he would have to do. 

 _I have to_ , Kyungsoo told himself. Family always came first, in the yakuza world. Even if it burned on his conscience, Kyungsoo would have to do whatever Hanka told him to do, simply because he was bound by honour. The tattoo over his left shoulder blade was a mark of his loyalty to EXO and its purpose.

Kyungsoo knew, of course, being EXO’s Commander was a double-edged sword. Like a lawyer protecting and serving a guilty client. But there was no way to escape his destiny, just as an AI would never have its own ghost. So while he was still a measly Major, he wanted to savour his last few months of limited freedom.

“The Commander would have my back flayed and my arm removed if he knew about tonight,” Kyungsoo said slowly, “but what he won’t know won’t kill him.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to call for the girls again,” Luhan smiled. Ah, Kyungsoo knew it had been worth coming here. Luhan knew just the thing to make Kyungsoo forget, to numb his mind till there was nothing.

When the girls came, none of them visibly cyber enhanced, Kyungsoo gave Luhan a grateful nod. Luhan just lifted his glass at Kyungsoo, lights flashing off his cyber hand.

“Enjoy yourself, Major,” he said, “while you still can.”

-

Kyungsoo retched in the bushes, the contents of his stomach coming up sour in his mouth. He gripped the wall with both hands above his head to steady himself. Aftershocks shook his body, leaving him in tremors.

 _God, now I remember why I hate drinking_ , Kyungsoo thought, wiping at his mouth with a paper napkin he’d stuffed in his pocket at Cuvee.

He stood up, not quite able to feel his limbs. The world seemed to spin, streetlights bending at unnatural angles. And the ground was so fucking uneven in Roponggi; he must’ve stumbled over a dozen potholes in the last ten minutes. Not that it helped him in his current situation.

Kyungsoo sighed loudly, pressing a hand lightly to his tummy. Even though he liked the way alcohol made him feel light-headed, the effects on his stomach was not nearly as welcome. After his first puke session at Cuvee, he’d decided it was high time to go home but apparently all that champagne was determined to exit his body by tonight.

And not a single cab had driven past him on the street since he left the club. The streets were deserted, shops long closed. Anyone who was awake were tucked safely away in nightclubs. Which meant he was going to have to stumble all the way back onto the main streets of Tokyo if he wanted to get home.

“Ugh,” he groaned, dragging his heavy feet. _Should’ve asked Luhan to drive me home,_ Kyungsoo pouted to himself. _Whatever_ , he thought. It was going to be a long walk, so he might as well enjoy the sights while he could. There was no telling when he would be able to come back to Roponggi anyway.

In this particular part of the city, much of the twenty first century’s technology was still being used, such as overhead power lines and wired signboards over local establishments. Kyungsoo thought it looked rather messy, and couldn’t comprehend how the people of that time could see this as modern when they’d come so far now.

These days, Kyungsoo was used to seeing advertisements displayed using holographic technology. Pet stores would have holographic fishes swimming over the streets or dogs running and barking along the sidewalk. Manufactured AI geishas would stand fifty feet tall, displayed side by side against skyscrapers, pouring sake that would never spill. Pixelated notices would hover over the surface of buildings, disappearing and rearranging themselves every so often.

 All of this in technicolour and so much more, to the point where it could be overwhelming if one wasn’t living right in the middle of it. Kyungsoo found it comforting, oddly enough; Tokyo was his home, and he would take it with the old and the new.

Listening to his own musings in his head had Kyungsoo pursing his lips. When did he get so philosophical? Or was he just so drunk that he couldn’t think straight anymore? Either way, he began to whistle tunelessly, just to get his mind off things.

That was the whole point of tonight, to stop thinking about pointless shit. So when he saw a park up ahead, he squealed in delight.

Now _this_ was something he had not seen in years. He hadn’t been to a park since he was seven, and the one in his neighbourhood had been demolished a few years back to make way for a new condominium building.

The one in Roponggi here was like a fairy tale dream; it had a fountain, with a stone mermaid pouring water into the shallow pool of water below her. Benches dotted the slopes of the park here and there. The grass here was dry, leaves crunching when he stepped on them but he didn’t mind. A slide and some swings had been installed towards Kyungsoo’s left, and he couldn’t help but go to them.

Kyungsoo clambered up the steps on the slide first, sliding all the way down. Then he ran to climb back up, and slid down again. He did it three more times before he eyed the swings, motionless.

Swings had always been his favourite. Who didn’t like swings anyway? Climbing to his feet, he went over to the nearest one and sat on it. The swing groaned, but held his weight when he began to kick his feet back and forth happily. Every time he swung forward, he had to tuck his legs beneath him so he wouldn’t scuff his shoes into the grass. Moving the swing with his own weight came back to him, as easy as riding a bicycle.

Kyungsoo felt like a child, absolved of sins and completely innocent. It was just him and the night sky, and the roiling in his stomach—

he leapt off the swing just in time to heave at the ground once again, bile rising up in the back of his throat. The motion of the swing must’ve given his gut a kickstart once again; there was nothing left to vomit, but his body insisted that he tried.

His enhanced arm began to tingle, mostly around the joints in his elbow. It always did whenever he drank too much. Kyungsoo supposed alcohol and cybernetic parts connected to his brain did not go well together; his eyes were acting up too. Tears kept blurring his vision as he retched for the third time that night. His tears tasted bitter when they trekked down to his mouth, for whatever reason.

He swiped at his mouth irritably, now all out of tissues. This night was starting to feel a little longer than it should’ve been. Kyungsoo tried to stand, but suddenly that was a mind-boggling challenge when he wobbled around. He kept his arms stretched out, determined he would not fall flat on his ass like some piss drunk kid—

Kyungsoo bumped into something soft from behind. His body gave in immediately like jelly, melting all the way down. Except he didn’t feel like he was falling, more like someone lifting him up so that he was horizontal…

“Kyungsoo?” someone’s voice called. Whoever it was sounded surprised to see him. _Must be Chanyeol_ , Kyungsoo thought. Finally, the Nanny Squad was good for something.

“Mm,” he mumbled, trying to move his head. He could see stars, lights flashing up in the sky. The world seemed to be passing him by, but everything was upside down. Street signs blinked, and the power lines were hanging down— or was it up?— the wrong way.

By God, he was well and truly drunk now.

“Kyungsoo, what are you doing here?” the voice spoke again. Kyungsoo’s ears were muffled, as if someone had stuffed them with cotton. It didn’t quite sound like Chanyeol…

“Was… drinking,” Kyungsoo mumbled, then laughed to himself. He gripped his hands around hard, wide shoulders. _Am I being carried?_ Kyungsoo asked himself. Seemed like it. Baekhyun was probably stomping around, throwing a fit out of jealousy.

“Let’s get you home,” he said, whoever it was. Kyungsoo nodded, or imagined he did. Then it was lights out.

-

Kyungsoo gasped, half-awake, when he felt someone pawing at his cock through his jeans. He tried to push the hand away, his head too dizzy for this, but desire grew thick in his veins. Then his jeans came undone, and he relaxed, body growing slack on the bed. The hand didn’t stop, tugging his underwear off to jerk him off gently.

Kyungsoo grew embarrassingly hard, biting down on a moan. God, he hadn’t been touched properly like this in _ages_. It’d been far too long since anyone had given him a good handjob.

“Please,” he begged. Something tugged at him in his head, making him frown despite the attempts to completely remove his pants. Dimly, Kyungsoo recalled drinking his weight’s worth in liquor. _At Cuvee_ , he thought, the memory coming to him in sluggish waves.

Yes, yes, he must’ve found his way to one of the private rooms upstairs. Luhan was being very generous tonight if he was allowing one of his girls to touch him this way. Clients had to pay an exorbitant price if they wanted one night with a girl…

Then again, Kyungsoo wasn’t short on money. When his shirt came off too, Kyungsoo found no strength to resist. 

 _Fuck the money,_ Kyungsoo thought. These hands running down his chest was worth whatever it might cost in the morning. They travelled south, going back to his cock. One hand fisted him tightly, enough to make Kyungsoo hiss under his breath. Another dragged nails down one thigh, probably leaving red lines in its wake. Soft, close-mouthed kisses followed after, all the while pumping his cock slowly.

“Christ, do it faster,” Kyungsoo groaned, gripping the hand on his cock. The texture of the hand was oddly rough, unexpected in a woman’s hand. But girls in Roponggi always had it rough, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she had to work like a dog during the day, or—

His hips jerked up in surprise when wet heat surrounded his hard dick. He relaxed into the mattress a second later, threading his hand through the girl’s hair. She hummed around Kyungsoo’s cock, and he swore, stars appearing in his vision. He noted dimly that the girl’s hair was short, probably in a pixie cut, but that didn’t matter.

He pushed her head downwards, urging her on. _Fuck_ , Kyungsoo bit on his lip. She kept licking, trying to take his entire length down his throat.

“Yes, yes,” Kyungsoo mumbled, when she sucked particularly hard on his cock and pulled off with a pop. Good God, he was going to come soon if she kept this up. As he breathed heavily, fumbling for his cock to try and finish what she’d started, he felt her climbing up to hover above him.

Mistaken, Kyungsoo had thought she was going to sink on his cock and grabbed for her hips. He had touched her soft skin for no more than two seconds before he felt himself being flipped over. He gave a startled gasp of surprise, trying to twist his head around. A strong hand shoved him back into the mattress.

“W-what are you—” His protests died on his mouth when he felt a cold finger drag down the cleft of his ass. Kyungsoo dropped his head down, shuddering uncontrollably. He’d never had anyone touch him there before, but… it’d be a lie if he said he didn’t like it. His cock twitched in anticipation against the mattress.

“Do that again,” Kyungsoo squirmed, bringing his knees up to stick his ass up in the air. A hand came to cup his balls at the same time the cold, lubed finger traced deeper in between his ass cheeks. More kisses were peppered over his tattoo in silent apology. Kyungsoo’s head spun crazily; fuck, how had he gone his entire life without this? He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the rush that came from bedding an anonymous partner, but this felt so much more intense than usual.

Now, the lubed finger was tracing his entrance tantalizingly. He could smell peaches in the air; scented lube. _Oh God, what if it’s flavoured?_ Kyungsoo thought. He could only imagine what it’d taste like on his cock, or on his ass…

As if sensing his thoughts, her finger began to sink into Kyungsoo’s ass. He resisted at once, tensing at the strange sensation. Undeterred, she sank her finger into his tight entrance until Kyungsoo forced himself to relax. He took deep breaths, counting until her finger went all the way in. Then it pulled out halfway, and slid back in with a squelch. Kyungsoo moaned, saliva dribbling from his open mouth.

Oddly enough, he felt a thumb swiping his saliva away. The hand lingered, tracing the curve of his cheek. Kyungsoo leaned into it, inadvertently pushing his ass back onto the finger in his ass. He clenched down in surprise, and felt the hand caressing his cheek move away to land on his back. Kyungsoo took it as a command to stay still, and obeyed for all of three seconds before he felt a breath on his ass.

He inhaled sharply. Was she really? Was Kyungsoo going to be eaten out by a girl? His questions were answered when a mouth licked at his ass tentatively, gently at first. Kyungsoo’s mouth dropped open. _Oh God,_ yes. Her tongue teased at his entrance gently, as if she was unsure as Kyungsoo was. Then all that tenderness fell away, like she couldn’t get enough of the taste of Kyungsoo’s ass and the peach scented lube.

Kyungsoo parted his legs with a choked cry, feeling both shocked and pleasured at the same time. This was a completely new avenue to him, had never once thought that a girl could be so brazen with her mouth.

She stuck her tongue into his ass as deep as she could manage, making the most obscene sounds. Kyungsoo found himself shaking from the onslaught of pleasure, unable to do anything else besides moaning _yes, yes, yes_ under his breath. And even though he felt like he was going to collapse in a heap, she held him up with firm hands on the back of his knees, mouthing at his ass thoroughly.

“Fuck, let me come, please,” Kyungsoo cried, reaching down to finger himself. When no reply came forth, he jerked himself off in tandem with her erratic mouth until he spilled all over the mattress. Kyungsoo shivered from the sheer sensation of it, tugging at his soft cock.

“Ah, stop,” Kyungsoo breathed, when she didn’t stop eating him out. Kyungsoo felt overly sensitive, like his senses had suddenly come alive. _Someone just ate me out…_

She suddenly stopped, leaving Kyungsoo to feel bereft. Then he felt her hand pressing into his back again, like before. And he certainly felt like someone had lit him on fire when he felt an unmistakable cock sliding over his entrance.

“S-shit,” Kyungsoo muttered, shoving his head down, cheeks burning with shame. So _she_ had been a _he_ all this time. That explained a lot. The rough hands, the bold mouth sucking a wet trail down his ass… But they’d gone too far to stop now, and Kyungsoo could not resist when _he_ positioned his cock, pressing lightly at Kyungsoo’s entrance. “F-fuck,” Kyungsoo groaned, rocking his hips backwards.

Then he pushed in, inch after inch, and Kyungsoo allowed himself to fall into the bliss that swept through his body as he thrust into Kyungsoo’s ass.

 _He_ was no gentle lover, taking Kyungsoo as if he’d waited all night to do it. BUt Kyungsoo would’ve be lying if he said he didn’t like it; he loved the harsh stretch when his cock went all the way in, loved the way he pounded Kyungsoo’s ass almost in a frenzy. All Kyungsoo could manage was to moan in pleasure, spreading his knees further apart.

They fucked for what felt like hours on end, Kyungsoo’s cock spurting at least three times. And those were the ones he remembered without blacking out halfway through the mind-boggling pleasure. Towards the end, Kyungsoo distinctly remember the white-hot pain of dry coming, his orgasm sizzling through him like fire. Only then did his mystery lover come in his ass, warmth filling Kyungsoo all the way up.

“Stay here with me,” he whispered harshly into Kyungsoo’s ear, nibbling down on his earlobe. He tugged Kyungsoo’s hair upwards, pulling him halfway so his cock could sink further into Kyungsoo’s ass.

 _I can’t move anyway_ , Kyungsoo thought. Every part of him felt sore and used. He’d never been on the receiving end of a good fuck before, but this was the best night he’d ever had, by all accounts. So good that by the time he’d pulled out, Kyungsoo slumped forward, falling into a deep sleep.

*

The distant noise of water spattering on the ground reached Kyungsoo’s ears.

He came to consciousness slowly, as if sifting through sand. The noises sharpened into clarity as he woke up. Someone was evidently taking a shower. Kyungsoo shifted in bed, his lower half muscles protesting in pain. _Shower_ , Kyungsoo thought. God, he wanted a hot shower. He hadn’t felt this sore in his entire life, and some hot water would definitely help with the sticky feeling between his legs.

 _Mm, shower,_ Kyungsoo thought again. Maybe he could join whoever was in the shower, if he could just get up—

Kyungsoo shot up in bed, hugging a pillow to his chest. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t in his room. It was a tiny bedroom, actually, with nothing more than a queen sized bed and a flimsy rack with some clothes hanging on it. There were two doors, one probably leading to the en suite bathroom and the other was a sliding door, taking up the entire wall facing the bed. It probably led to— the rest of the house? Apartment? Kyungsoo’s guess was as good as anyone’s.

 _Where the fuck am I?_ Kyungsoo bit down on the pillow he was hugging to his chest. He went through the previous night’s events through his head, struggling to remember everything in chronological order.

“I was at Cuvee,” he muttered, “then I met Luhan, then there were girls…” Kyungsoo frowned. There must’ve a lot of alcohol too, because he couldn’t remember what came after that. He distinctly remembered leaving the club, and collapsing into someone’s arms at the park. But did that happen after he met his mystery lover, or before…?

Kyungsoo made an embarrassing noise in his throat, clamping down his mouth on the pillow. _Who in the hell fucked me senseless last night?_

Yes, now he remembered the mind-blowing sex last night, the blowjob and the oh-so-sinful ass eating session. The stickiness between his legs was evidence that he wasn’t the only who enjoyed himself last night either. Except he didn’t think he wanted to relive those moments where he thought he was going to bang a girl, and ended being banged by some guy…

Mortification and horror filled Kyungsoo; he couldn’t tell if he was more ashamed about the fact that some guy _fucked him in the ass multiple times_ , or the fact that he didn’t know _who_ fucked him last night.

“Oh my God,” Kyungsoo said, holding his head like it was about to roll off his neck, “oh my God… Oh my God—”

“GOOD MORNING!”

Kyungsoo gave a short scream that would’ve gotten him disowned by his father if he ever heard it. He held his pillow over himself defensively, looking up to see a boy standing by the bathroom door.

The man— _was he the one who banged me last night?_ — seemed as surprised as Kyungsoo was. He was staring at Kyungsoo with wide eyes, his mouth slightly open. There was a child-like wonder to the way he looked at Kyungsoo, which was more disconcerting over the fact that he was fucking _hot_.

He had tan skin and dark hair, his full height engulfing the doorframe of the bathroom. In the back of Kyungsoo’s mind, he noted that the boy had no visible cyber enhancements, not even a transmitter at his temple, which was common enough. Unless that towel around his neck hid something, he looked like a boy-next-door, goody two shoes type of person. If he’d fucked Kyungsoo then… then maybe it wasn’t as mortifying to remember after all.

“It’s really you,” he breathed, breaking the silence between them.

“M-me?” Kyungsoo swallowed thickly.

He jumped when the man slumped to the ground, still staring at Kyungsoo like he was the winning lottery ticket of the day. _Who_ is _this freak?_ Kyungsoo thought. And why was he acting like he was meeting his celebrity crush for the first time?

“I thought that maybe you would’ve left while I was in the shower,” his lower lip quivered as he spoke, “I can’t believe it’s really you, and you’re… _here,_ in my bed.” He sounded nothing short of awed. Then, like he couldn’t contain it anymore, the boy got to his feet in an instant and launched himself onto the bed.

 Kyungsoo watched in horror as the boy flew across the short distance between them. It took all of two seconds before he landed right on top of Kyungsoo, his entire weight pressing him back into the mattress.

“Um, first of all—”

Whatever Kyungsoo was supposed to say died in his mouth when the boy kissed him full on the mouth. He had soft, soft lips, kissing Kyungsoo tenderly. But he had a death grip on Kyungsoo’s shoulders like he wanted to hold him tight and never let him go. His mouth moved against Kyungsoo’s and from the way the boy held him, Kyungsoo could feel his thundering heart beneath a defined, hard chest.  

He was clearly nervous, because of Kyungsoo. Like a boy kissing his first love. It would’ve been cute, almost. Right until the boy slipped his tongue into Kyungsoo’s mouth. 

He hummed in contentment, lapping at Kyungsoo’s mouth hungrily. It was disconcerting, really. One minute he was all PG-13 and the next, he was grinding his hips down on Kyungsoo’s crotch, his kisses wet and sloppy. He was definitely the man from last night, if his expert mouth was any indication.

And it wasn’t that Kyungsoo was denying his body’s reaction to the boy, but really… a proper introduction would’ve been nice. Especially since they’d already fucked last night. Kyungsoo bore his kisses begrudgingly, his hands tightening to fists.

After a few seconds, the boy let up on Kyungsoo to breathe. His pupils were dilated as he looked down upon Kyungsoo, lips still glistening with spit—

“Backhand!” Kyungsoo yelled as he struck the boy right across the face. He used his Good arm, which meant the boy was only thrown off him instead of thrown right through the wall. Kyungsoo crawled away from him regardless, till his back hit the headboard. The motion had his head whirling, but he could still see straight.

“Who are you?!” Kyungsoo demanded, pointing at the boy. He could still feel their heated kiss on his mouth, and the smell of his body wash lingered in Kyungsoo’s nostrils. Kyungsoo was grateful for the covers around him; his cock was half-hard from the way he’d grinded Kyungsoo sensually. _Damn._

The boy giggled, holding his cheek in one hand. He sat down, leaning against the wall. “I guess there’s no denying it,” he laughed, almost wistfully, “you really are Do Kyungsoo.” He stroked his cheek, as if savouring Kyungsoo’s touch.

Kyungsoo shuddered involuntarily, out of anger and shock. This was a whole new level of madness, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

“Tell me who you are!” Kyungsoo shrieked, swinging his pillow at the boy. He was no fool; this time he reacted so fast, all Kyungsoo saw was a blur as he slunk out of the way. 

“It’s not impossible that you don’t remember me,” he chuckled, backing up to stand by the sliding door. Kyungsoo blinked, pausing. Was he supposed to remember this guy? But nothing about the boy struck him as familiar, and Kyungsoo would’ve remembered if someone _this_ hot picked him up at the club…

As if hearing his thoughts, the boy smiled sadly. “You were just a kid back then. We both were. I don’t… I don’t expect you to remember.” Suddenly, the red mark on his cheek was stark against his tan skin. It made Kyungsoo feel unexpectedly guilty.

“A-ah,” Kyungsoo stammered, trying to smoothen his expression. “Right. You’re… yeah. I remember you,” he lied blatantly, “it’s great to see you doing well.”

The boy gave him a dry look, clearly not buying into Kyungsoo’s act. Kyungsoo grunted in response, giving up. He hated having to guess, hated that this guy seemed to know much more than Kyungsoo did…

Like a bolt out of the blue, Kyungsoo suddenly doubled over. His Better arm tingled crazily, and he gagged. Spit dribbled out of his mouth, leaving gross stains on the mattress. “Oh man,” he could hear the boy clambering over to him. Kyungsoo tried to fight him off, but he was too weak as the boy half-picked him up to lay him down on the mattress properly.

“Bet you have a hell of a hangover right now,” he remarked, brushing hair out of Kyungsoo’s eyes.

“D-damn you,” Kyungsoo growled. The boy was unruffled, smiling down at him. He left the room through the large sliding door, and Kyungsoo’s gaze followed, unwavering. Outside the bedroom, a tiny living room awaited.  

Kyungsoo saw a couch, and a low coffee table. Blinds were drawn over a window, allowing slivers of sunlight to peek through. Kyungsoo would wager he was in an apartment, considering how tiny everything was. The whole place was probably smaller than his condo.

The boy rustled about, out of Kyungsoo’s sight. Moments later, he returned with cookies and a glass filled with fizzling liquid on a tray. A sports drink, Kyungsoo figured. But it took him a beat to realize that they were for him.

“Here,” the boy said, setting the tray on a corner of the mattress, within Kyungsoo’s reach. “Hopefully, these will make your hangover bearable.” He pointed at the rack at the foot of the bed.

“Your clothes are here. Shower’s at your disposal too.” He paused, then patted the pockets of his sweatpants for something. Kyungsoo just stared wordlessly. This guy was just unpredictable in every way. He’d fucked Kyungsoo sensitive yesterday, but now he was just… Nice. Too nice. And from experience, people weren’t nice unless they wanted something. 

Unaware of Kyungsoo’s thoughts, the boy removed a business card from his pocket, and placed it on the tray. “When you’re feeling better this afternoon, stop by here if you want to,” he smiled brightly, eyes crinkling at the sides. Kyungsoo had to look away.

 _Fuck, he’s hot,_ Kyungsoo thought. The boy turned to the rack behind him, taking a jacket to throw over his shoulders.

“For now, I gotta go to work. See you later then!” he waved at Kyungsoo, with all the joy of a kid about to go to school. Before Kyungsoo could even comprehend his words, the boy was off, shutting the sliding door behind him.

Kyungsoo stared, mouth agape. _What the fuck was that all about?_

He’d appeared out of nowhere from the bathroom, had been awed by the mere sight of Kyungsoo, kissed Kyungsoo (with _tongue_ ), and just left with a breezy smile. _Didn’t even tell me his name,_ Kyungsoo wrinkled his nose in confusion.  

Well, Kyungsoo was going to find out, whatever it took. He wasn’t one to dig into a one night stand’s life, but this one was dangerous. If he knew who Kyungsoo was then there was a chance he knew about EXO. Kyungsoo just had to know how much, because Hanka Robotics was nothing if not secretive. If he somehow found out about anything Hanka deemed classified, Kyungsoo was going to have to take him out.

And he had, after all, brought Kyungsoo to orgasm at least four times. The least he could do was go and thank him. _Or just kill him,_ Kyungsoo thought, narrowing his eyes, _not necessarily in that order._

Well, he’d do all that in a while. First, he was going to have to figure out how to move without upsetting his head or his stomach.

-

It was a little after one in the afternoon when Kyungsoo finally left the apartment, locking the door behind him. Yes, the nutbag actually left him a key on the coffee table. Kyungsoo didn’t know if the guy was just foolishly trusting like a dog, or if he was confident in the fact that Kyungsoo wouldn’t illegally utilize the key one day.

He had recovered from his severe bouts of nausea after an hour of fitful sleep. Kyungsoo ate the food the boy had set out for him ravenously as soon as his head stopped ringing, and managed to stumble to the bathroom for a shower.

Kyungsoo was remarkably fresh after that, and was dressing himself when he’d picked up the hologram business card. The screen was cracked, as if it’d taken a tumble in the washing machine a few times. He had been amazed it didn’t just fall into pieces in his hand.

“Kim Jongin,” he read on the front. Didn’t ring a bell, even after that refreshing nap. When he tapped on it to display the address, his jaw dropped. This just kept getting better and better.

Kyungsoo found himself standing before a kindergarten, jangling Jongin’s keys in one hand.

 _Fucking hell,_ he thought.

Kyungsoo had found the place from the directions embedded in the card, walking the entire way by foot. It was just ten minutes away from Jongin’s multi-storey apartment, set right in the heart of a suburban neighbourhood. Here, the buildings were older, built in the late 20th century style. Most were leased out as offices for small businesses but every now and then, a mom and pop convenience store or restaurant would appear.

So when Kyungsoo spotted the building he was looking for, he couldn’t say he was very surprised with the way it looked.

From the rainbows painted on the walls of the terrace house and white picket fence, the place exuded a simplistic charm. Even though it was an old building and appeared a little run down, Kyungsoo thought it suited Jongin. The handsome bastard…

A muscle ticked in his jaw when children burst forth from the front door, giggling as they ran about on the lawn. A small playground had been set up, reminding Kyungsoo of the night before. _No more playgrounds next time_ , he pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose.

Good Lord almighty. It just _had_ to be a kindergarten, of all places.

A figure stepped out, carrying a sleeping girl in his arms. Kyungsoo didn’t even have to see his face to know who he was.

“Jongin!” he called, reluctantly stepping closer to the front gate. It barely came up to Kyungsoo’s waist; clearly, it was only meant to keep children in, not to keep people out. Jongin looked up, face brightening with delight as he laid eyes on Kyungsoo.

“You came,” he smiled with glee. He had a floral apron on over his clothes, one Kyungsoo would never be caught dead in. More scampered out to the lawn from inside the kindergarten. “Kids, we have a visitor,” he called to the children.

They dropped their toys or halted mid-run all at once. They stared at Kyungsoo in wonder, before rushing over to the gate, squealing and screaming. Kyungsoo was horrified.

“Come in,” Jongin said, going over to unlock the gate. He smiled sheepishly when he caught Kyungsoo’s expression. “They won’t be difficult—”

Several children slammed into Kyungsoo, some clinging to his legs. Others tried to climb him like a tree, practically screaming with excitement. Kyungsoo wasn’t sure if it would cost him a lawsuit to shake them off with his Better arm. “Um,” Jongin bit back a smile, not quite able to tell the children to get off him. Kyungsoo suspected he was enjoying it.

“Children, this is the one I was telling you about,” he tried to say. _He was talking about me to the kids?_ Kyungsoo widened his eyes. Oh, for Christ’s sake, silencing one man would be hard enough but an entire kindergarten was just overkill—

“Ah, love talk! Love talk, love talk,” a girl with pigtails squealed.

The others began to release Kyungsoo one by one, throwing their hands up and chanting ‘love talk’. Kyungsoo sensed it was too early to be relieved just yet. Jongin tried to say something to Kyungsoo over their manic screams, but Kyungsoo couldn’t catch it.

An older woman, perhaps in her sixties, stepped out just then, probably wondering what the commotion outside was all about. “Jongin?” she held up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

“Oh, a visitor?” she smiled warmly.

“Ms. Yoo, love talk!” a little boy ran up to her, pointing at Kyungsoo excitedly. Her entire demeanour changed at once; it was as if the children had infected her with all their ‘love talk’. She ushered the children in at once, and motioned for Kyungsoo to come along.

“Come, come! Have a drink, won’t you?” she said. When Kyungsoo didn’t move right away, Jongin tugged him along, grabbing his Better arm. “C’mon, we can talk inside,” Jongin suggested. Seeing no way out of this, Kyungsoo resigned himself to his fate and let Jongin drag him in.

After a frenzied hour of trying to get the children settled down long enough to eat lunch, Kyungsoo and Jongin finally caught a break when half of the kids were sent upstairs for their midday nap. Others had homework to finish, which gave Jongin an hour of peace, just enough time to have his lunch.

Kyungsoo had to force himself to observe his surroundings when Jongin came over with a plate of food in his hands, a drink in the other. He’d rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscled arms that Kyungsoo wanted to sink his teeth into. Jongin was a lot bigger than Kyungsoo initially thought him to be. And if memory served him right, he must’ve been pretty strong if he could lift an unconscious Kyungsoo last night. His Better arm weighed an extra twenty pounds, and he wasn’t exactly small, either. Kyungsoo swallowed, looking away.

They were sat down at a garden table set on a porch in the back garden, where several potted plants flourished.

Kyungsoo felt completely out of his element here. Everything about the place screamed wholesome, innocent goodness. A complete opposite of Kyungsoo’s world. He was used to seeing barren walls, weapons or machines stacked everywhere. Not open spaces, children and cartoons. Looking around, he felt so far removed from what he did yesterday, and what he’d allowed Jongin to do to him last night.

 “You know, many of the kids’ parents are in your line of work,” Jongin said, biting down on his onigiri. “It’s why none of them were afraid to approach you.”

“Hmph,” Kyungsoo grunted. Again with the cryptic talk. How the hell did Jongin know anything about Kyungsoo? How was it that Jongin could remember so much about Kyungsoo, and yet had left no memorable impression upon Kyungsoo at all?

“Listen, I really have no idea who you are—”

“Well, if you need something to jog your memory…” Jongin interrupted him, digging into the front pocket of his apron. He produced a phone, and peered down at it, searching for something. Kyungsoo waited, unable to curb his curiousity.  After a beat, he held out his phone to Kyungsoo, allowing a video to play.

Kyungsoo leaned in closer for a look at first. Then he nearly dropped off the chair, mouth dropping open for the second time that day. Jongin had recorded Kyungsoo last night with his phone, in the throes of passion. Kyungsoo could see himself bent over, Jongin’s cock pounding in and out of his ass. The noises…

Kyungsoo was fucked. And not just in the traditional sense of the word.

He made a grab for the phone, using his Better arm. Seeming to have anticipated this, Jongin pulled his hand back, out of reach. Kyungsoo missed the phone by mere inches, and hissed at Jongin.

“I’m not going to use it for anything weird,” Jongin said defensively. Kyungsoo tried to snatch at it again but Jongin was too lanky for his own good, stretching his arm way above Kyungsoo’s head. A few feet away, Ms. Yoo and a few of the children tittered amongst themselves excitedly. The only reason Kyungsoo held back from tackling the little shit to the ground was because he didn’t want to traumatize the kids around them.

“Then give it over!” Kyungsoo gritted his teeth.

“Well, maybe for nights when I’m…” Jongin amended. Kyungsoo gave him a frustrated look.

“Bastard, that _is_ weird,” he made a swipe for the phone again. Jongin laughed good-naturedly, like it was all just a game to him. Finally, he tucked it into his right pocket, out of Kyungsoo’s reach. Again, he could just tackle this guy like a rugby player and get this shit over with, but there were too many witnesses who were prone to run their mouths…

Kyungsoo grunted, folding his legs and grabbing Jongin’s iced matcha tea. He took a big swig. Shamed it wasn’t spiked with vodka, but he’d take what he could get.

“Let’s just cut things to the chase here,” Kyungsoo muttered, “who the hell are you, and why do you know so much about me?”

Jongin didn’t answer, not right away. He munched on his food, almost thoughtfully, before he swallowed and chose his words carefully. “You know where Tateshi is?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo said cautiously, “it’s in Katsushika. EXO has an office there. Why?”

“I used to live in an apartment nearby,” Jongin told him, in a soft voice, “it’s a lot like my place now. Small, multilevel. Everyone keeps to their business in that area.

“My parents worked for Hanka Robotics back when I was a kid,” Jongin took a bite of his food. Kyungsoo blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected that. Then again, 20% of the population in Japan were linked to Hanka in one way or another. But this was certainly taking a turn Kyungsoo never saw coming…

“They were some pretty important scientists, though I didn’t know that at the time. They were part of a special team, working on a classified project,” Jongin lowered his voice. Oh. Kyungsoo could already guess where this was going.

“There were some… ethical issues within the project that my parents didn’t agree with. They wanted out of the project shortly after they found out, but Hanka wouldn’t let them leave because they were essential members of the team. My parents threatened to go public with the project, and that was when Hanka retaliated.”

Kyungsoo had an idea about what retaliation was like. Hanka wasn’t just some big, mean company. It was a company that took threats very seriously, and would do anything to protect themselves.

Some men came to our place one day,” Jongin continued, eyes fluttering shut. “I was playing video games in my room. I could smell dinner, and I knew my mom was going to call for me soon. But I didn’t know that the sounds I was hearing didn’t come from the game I was playing. It was from outside my room, from my own parents.” Jongin clamped a hand over his mouth, shaking.

Kyungsoo prickled uncomfortably. Obviously, it hurt Jongin to relieve these memories. He was just about to tell Jongin to stop, when he went on.

“They were dead, of course, when a couple of men burst into my room and dragged me out by my hair. There was so much blood on the floor, on the carpet… I wanted to help them, but there was nothing I could do. All the men were armed, and I didn’t know how to fight.

“Then they brought me to this man standing by the front door, smoking a cigarette. I remember he had this red tattoo on his hand, but I couldn’t make it out what it was. Anyway, he was obviously the leader, although he seemed surprised to see me. They probably didn’t know about me, and weren’t sure if it was better to kill me or let me live,” Jongin laughed bitterly.

Meanwhile, Kyungsoo swallowed. This was starting to sound familiar. A memory, long forgotten, tickled in the back of his head. The apartment, the deathly scene of blood and gore in someone’s home…

And he knew who the man Jongin was talking about. It was his father.

“While they talked among themselves, the man sent me away, into a car downstairs. His men told me not to try anything stupid or they’d blow my head off. They shoved me into the car then,” Jongin looked up shyly, “where you were sitting inside.”

Kyungsoo jolted with surprise. Yes, he remembered now. It had been twelve years ago, when his father decided to take him out on his ‘business trips’. Back in those days, his father always came along if Hanka specifically wanted someone dead, instead of alive.

He’d wanted Kyungsoo to toughen up, and had made Kyungsoo watch as his men fired at a couple, murdering them in their own home. Kyungsoo had been sick with the sight, watching as the husband tried to protect his wife with his body. Bullets riddled his back, sending blood oozing everywhere. But he wasn’t dead yet, not until one of EXO’s men stepped up and finally splattered his brains apart.

To his father’s disappointment, Kyungsoo had fled the scene shortly after, desperate to escape the sights that lingered in the back of his eyelids.

Someone must’ve caught him while he’d been running, and put him in the car. Kyungsoo only had a vague memory of sitting in that car alone, shaking from the trauma. It wasn’t something he liked to think about.

But he did remember the boy who was pushed in mere minutes after Kyungsoo, his eyes red from tears and snot staining his shirt.

“You were… that kid? The one who was crying?” Kyungsoo asked.

Jongin nodded. “Yeah. And I remember you well. I don’t know what you’d been doing up until the moment I was forced into that car, but you looked— scared. Like you’d just seen something that you would never forget, something life-changing. Just as I did that day, too. But the difference between us was that you tried to comfort me, even though you knew nothing.”

Kyungsoo palmed his face.

“You told me not to cry,” Jongin smiled, “and to punch whoever tried to make me cry.” Kyungsoo turned away so Jongin wouldn’t see his burning cheeks. He’d wanted nothing more than a distraction at that time, and had latched on to making the crying boy feel better. He distinctly remembered saying some pretty cheesy stuff, things that only men in romance movies would say.

“‘Don’t you worry! I’ll protect you,’ you yelled,” Jongin laughed, throwing his head back. “It’s funny to think of now, a kid trying to protect another. But it made me feel a lot better. Just enough that it made me stop crying.”

“It was your parents that day,” Kyungsoo bit out, “the life-changing thing that I saw. I had no idea that my dad had been sent to kill your family. And I sure as hell didn’t know you were their son.”

Jongin’s expression softened at once, his jubilance fading. “I’m not blaming you, you know.”

“Then why are you telling me this?” Kyungsoo gritted.

“Because you wanted to know how I knew about you. We must’ve been in that car for a good couple of hours. You had so many toys, and shared them with me. Don’t you remember us playing ‘take the castle’? Even in those days, you were truly a born yakuza,” Jongin chuckled, “you had the strategic, ruthless planning of an adult, though we were just playing with toys. I was amazed as a kid, and more so now that I work with kids and realize that not everyone is like you.”

For Christ’s sake, this man was really out to embarrass Kyungsoo in every way. His father had encouraged him to play war games a lot, to groom him as the next head.

“I was just a stupid kid. You’re looking at everything with rose-coloured glasses on,” Kyungsoo muttered.

“Maybe. But when they finally took me out of that car and dropped me off at my aunt’s place, I realized something,” Jongin said, solemn.

“Fate had taken away my life, my parents. But it had given me purpose, something which I’d needed to move on. Finding you,” he gave Kyungsoo the shyest of smiles. Something pulled at Kyungsoo’s chest at the sight of his smile. For all his eccentricities, he did have a beautiful smile.

Instead of focusing on the last two words he’d said, Kyungsoo asked, “What do you mean drop you off at your aunt’s place?” He had to tear away his gaze from Jongin.

“Oh,” Jongin blinked, “the details are unclear on that. I’m guessing they decided to let me live, and ransacked the apartment for any information on my next of kin. They could’ve looked through my parent’s contact list and went from there. I’m sure Hanka has an extensive network,” Jongin shrugged.

Kyungsoo swallowed thickly. If that was true, then Kyungsoo’s father must’ve spared Jongin because he was around Kyungsoo’s age. He probably didn’t have the heart to order a child killed, especially since Hanka only wanted his parents wiped out from existence.

_And somehow, he’s found his way to me…_

“So you’re telling me that you survived that day. And instead of putting it behind you, you decide on looking for me?”

“Well, it wasn’t a conscious decision,” Jongin frowned slightly, lifting a brow in thought. “But you were the first person in my life to tell me that there was no point in being sad, and to do something about it. To hear this coming from a boy my age felt like the most sincere advice anyone could give me.”

“Actually, my father was the one who told me that. And he meant that emotions should never get in the way of your actions,” Kyungsoo said. Jongin smiled at his interruption, but continued.

“I didn’t want to leave when they took me to my aunt’s place. I thought they were going to hurt me, or you, but I was just dropped off quietly. And I had no idea who you were, nothing to go by except for my parents’ death.

“So I lived by the words you told me, and made a life for myself. I think I’ve done a good job of it, so far. I was a lot older when my aunt finally told me about my parents, and it wasn’t hard to find out about you.”

Kyungsoo had nothing to say to that. Investigating him wasn’t hard; a few questions in the right place could tell Jongin Kyungsoo’s age, his role in EXO. What surprised Kyungsoo was that Jongin thought so highly of him, even after knowing just whose son Kyungsoo was. The years that had since passed clearly hadn’t diminished the way Jongin hero-worshipped him.

 _But I’m no hero,_ Kyungsoo thought, _and I’m about to do the things my father did._

“Listen, it was nice to talk to you about all this, but… I’m not what you think,” Kyungsoo said honestly.

“It was just a chance encounter, you and me in that car. And it’s great that you managed not to live in guilt, which would’ve been understandable. But things have changed since then, and I’m not a kid anymore.”

“I know,” Jongin smirked, giving him a smouldering look, “you are code name Major, the next head of EXO.” Despite his words, Kyungsoo knew he was thinking about last night. His anger flared at once; he’d almost forgotten.

“If you know who I am, then you’ll do well to delete that video from your phone,” Kyungsoo said, making his voice cold. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to intimidate Jongin very much.

“I don’t know if I will. It took me so many years to find you, and then to finally have you in my bed?” Jongin cocked his head at him, “think of it as a memento.”

“Memento my ass, motherfuck—”

Jongin placed a silencing finger over his lips. Kyungsoo growled at him. “How about a game then?” Jongin asked, biting back a smile.

“A game?” Kyungsoo repeated incredulously. By God, the nerves on this one. First, he fucked Kyungsoo senseless, knowing full well who he was and now he was holding potential blackmail material against Kyungsoo. He’d hate him more if he wasn’t so bloody hot…

“Spend the rest of your day with me. You can try to take my phone from me which I know you’ll be good at, no doubt,” his gaze briefly dropped to his Better arm, “If you can snatch my phone, I’ll delete the video and never bother you again. If you fail,” Jongin leaned closer, “I’ll kiss you.”

Kyungsoo launched himself away from him. Jongin beamed like a child, evidently pleased that he’d come up with such an outrageous idea. Kyungsoo couldn’t deny that the thought of Jongin kissing him excited him— his mouth was just sinful— but there was so much more at stake here. Plus, he needed to know for sure that the video was deleted.

_If one day gets me an entire lifetime without him…_

“Fine,” Kyungsoo grunted, “you have yourself a deal. Hope you’re prepared to lose.” Jongin laughed under his breath, tucking his phone into the pocket of his apron. He began to stand up, holding his empty plate.

“I’m sure this’ll prove to be educational for the both of us,” he said lightly.

In the next hour, Kyungsoo trailed Jongin around the kindergarten as he went about with his duties at the kindergarten. Now that the kids were awake, their parents would come to pick up. Or at least, they’d send their AI robots to do it. Some were Hanka AIs, wearing the same, blank faces.

Kyungsoo had expected chaos to ensue, but the AIs were programmed to recognize the child they’d been sent to pick up and would wait patiently until the child came running towards them. It was a little unnerving to watch, but he deduced that it was probably because he wasn’t around AIs very much.

His father liked to have the loyalties of real men, not the mechanical mind of something that could not intuit on its own.

As Jongin waved the last child home, he turned to Kyungsoo. He had sat himself in the kindergarten on a tiny, plastic chair, not bothering to hide his boredom as he waited. Jongin smiled, more to himself than at Kyungsoo.

“Thanks for waiting.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Kyungsoo huffed. He was only here out of necessity. If Kyungsoo truly wanted to go, he would’ve reassembled his phone to let the Nanny Squad track him. The only reason Kyungsoo stopped himself from doing so was because he didn’t want to risk the children at the kindergarten; his fight was with Jongin, and no one else.

Jongin laughed at Kyungsoo’s grouchy expression. “I promise I won’t be long. There’s only closing up left now,” he said.

He proceeded to collect the scattered chairs around the kindergarten into neat stacks, labouring diligently. Kyungsoo would’ve helped, but then he wouldn’t have been able to watch Jongin’s sweatpants stretch over his pert ass every time he bent over, or glimpse his slim waist whenever his shirt lifted up slightly...

When he was done, Jongin busied himself by locking up the back door and shutting all the windows. Not that it took very long, because the place was smaller than it looked.

Once complete, they headed out to the flimsy gates, where Jongin clicked a heavy-looking padlock in place.

“You know that’s not going to keep anyone out,” Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’ll keep the homeless and druggies in the area out,” Jongin replied, “there’s nothing valuable here, unless you’re looking for a place to stay for the night.” Kyungsoo shifted his gaze around the area nervously.

“It doesn’t look _that_ bad around here,” Kyungsoo remarked.

“Don’t you know things only go bump in the night?” Jongin said, jangling the keys in Kyungsoo’s face. He scowled in return, only to have Jongin giggle openly.

“C’mon,” Jongin said, turning to walk. Kyungsoo fell in step behind him, refusing to walk side by side. Kyungsoo wasn’t about to have people start thinking they were friends or lovers, and God only knew how fast rumours spread in this city.

“Where do you wanna go first?” Jongin asked.

“A clothing store to redo your wardrobe,” Kyungsoo drawled in distaste. The man had no damned respect for his perfect body proportions, which was model-esque even to Kyungsoo’s eyes. Instead, he donned horrible looking sweatpants that did nothing for his long legs, and his mustard jersey jacket must’ve been at least a decade old. There were stains on it that Kyungsoo preferred not to dwell on.

And the biggest pity of all were his glasses; who even wore glasses these days? Most people just got their eyes enhanced.

Jongin pouted his lips in curiosity at his statement; Kyungsoo wanted to shake him till his teeth rattled in his skull and kiss him at the same time.

“Ms. Yoo tells me I need a makeover, sometimes. But I think my clothes look okay…”

“They look alright, just not when they’re put together,” Kyungsoo snapped, “and if you’re going to be seen in public with me, you’d better lock your ugly ass jersey jacket up and throw away the key.” For whatever reason, Jongin seemed to perk up at that.

“Okay,” he acceded, his cheeks turning pink, “so where to?”

They took a taxi to Shinjuku, where Kyungsoo proceeded to drag him into the first men’s clothing store he saw. The pieces sold at the store were fortunately in Jongin’s favour; they offered sleek, neat cuts and near-perfect tailoring. Kyungsoo picked out a few coats first, gesturing for Jongin to put them on.

The ones that came up to his knee made Jongin look like an entirely different person; Kyungsoo was almost thankful that this guy was borderline-obsessed with him.

“These look expensive,” Jongin murmured, putting on another coat that was a little less fitting to his figure. Not bad, but Jongin had a body that deserved to be shown off.

“I’ll pay for them,” Kyungsoo waved at him dismissively, “now, are you into spikes and leather, or should we stick with something more mediocre?” He held up a black biker jacket that he would’ve gladly peeled off Jongin, if their circumstances were different.

Jongin blinked. “…The spikes might poke the children,” he said, reaching out a hand to touch the sleeve.

“You’re not going to be wearing this for the children, remember?” Kyungsoo said. Then he turned to a salesman who was standing a few feet away, evidently eager to serve Kyungsoo. He probably smelled a good sale, and he was right.

“We’ll take this,” Kyungsoo held the jacket out to him.

After a half hour of trying to figure what sort of style Jongin liked, Kyungsoo all but pushed him into the fitting room, his arms laden with shirts, sweaters and pants in earthy or dark tones. Jongin seemed to like loud prints like chequers and what not, but Kyungsoo wasn’t about to walk around in public with him like that.

“You’re gonna have to lose the glasses too, y’know,” Kyungsoo said to Jongin, who was trying on the clothes behind the curtained fitting room.

Aside from deliberately trying to cut down their time spent together by making him try on dozens of clothes, Kyungsoo also wanted to take this as an opportunity to steal his phone. If what he observed was correct, all the fitting rooms only one wall had hooks on it, so his phone was bound to be in the pocket of his sweatpants or jacket. In the meantime, all he needed to do was distract Jongin by talking to him.

“But I need the glasses!” Jongin was saying. His voice sounded muffled behind the curtain, so hopefully he was trying to get his shirt off. Kyungsoo stuck his hand through the curtain blindly, trying to feel for the clothes on the wall.

He knew the other patrons in the store were openly staring at him; even the salesman serving him looked appalled, but Kyungsoo couldn’t give a fuck. He was about to blow an obscene amount of money on this boy whom he had no intention of ever meeting again. 

 _A small amount to pay_ , Kyungsoo thought darkly, if it meant finally shaking off this guy.

“Why don’t you just get them enhanced, or something? Or at least have ‘em lasered,” Kyungsoo replied. Goddammit, where was the fucking clothes? Unless Jongin just cast them off on the floor…

“I can’t afford laser eye surgery, much less enhanced eyes,” came Jongin’s reply.

“Then we’re going to have to do something about that today,” Kyungsoo almost growled, dropping to his knees to feel blindly at the ground. At this point, he could hear the other patrons whispering to one another. The salesman was probably on the verge of calling the police.

 _Jesus, where is that damned phone?_ Kyungsoo gritted his teeth. He needed to find it soon, lest Jongin stomped on his arm by mistake.

Suddenly, he felt fabric catching in his hand. Kyungsoo was about to pull it out, when it was tugged slowly out of his grip. Kyungsoo just about caught himself from crying out in surprise.

“You’re really…” Jongin’s voice said behind the curtain. Kyungsoo sighed loudly, getting to his feet. He was gonna have to try the wall again; perhaps Jongin had picked up his clothes off the floor to hang it up. Whatever the case, Kyungsoo wasn’t ready to give up this opportunity just yet.

“Really what?” Kyungsoo muttered, distracted.

“Nice. It’s why people like me manage to take advantage of you.” Kyungsoo was busy petting the wall again, trying to feel for anything, really, when Jongin’s hand emerged from the other side of the curtain and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Huh…?”

Kyungsoo found himself tugged forward by Jongin’s unseen hand, lurking somewhere behind the curtain. Jongin then poked his head out, kissing Kyungsoo soundly on the mouth.

He could feel his cheeks warming already; Kyungsoo wasn’t one for public display of affection. But he felt himself melting against Jongin’s mouth, the way his tongue ran along his bottom lip so simplistic yet seductive…

Kyungsoo landed a well-aimed punch on Jongin’s stomach as soon as they broke off. Jongin hollered with laughter, even as the curtain jerked when he doubled over.

“Still worth it,” Jongin’s voice said. Even without seeing him, Kyungsoo knew he had a face splitting grin on his face.

That bastard. Kyungsoo wiped at his mouth, pretending he didn’t feel the lingering heat from Jongin’s searing kiss. He prayed for patience from whatever deity might be listening, because Jongin was testing Kyungsoo in every single way.

Finally, after an hour sped by, they left the store. Jongin was now finally up to par in terms of appearances; he was wearing the long coat Kyungsoo liked, and a light shirt underneath. His tight pants hugged his thighs deliciously, and boots recommended by the salesman topped off the entire look. He looked like a city boy idling his time away, carrying five paper bags with both hands, the store brand stamped on them.

Kyungsoo would’ve felt proud almost, like a sugar daddy indulging his sweet baby. Except this baby wasn’t so sweet, and could ruin Kyungsoo’s reputation despite the cheery smile on his face.

“Are we really going to the optometrist?” Jongin asked, unaware of how different people perceived him now. Some girls were openly gaping at him, and not a small number of men’s gazes lingered on Jongin’s thighs.

“Yeah, we are,” Kyungsoo replied, “again, I’m not gonna let you look like some nerd when you’re out with me. I have an image to uphold.”

Jongin seemed shy at that remark. “But… I kind of like my glasses. The clothes are alright, but my glasses have been with me more than half of my life, so it’s become a part of me at this point—”

“You’re a lot more self-conscious than you should be,” Kyungsoo cut him off, “and you must have been deprived of a mirror as of late, because you’re more muscular than most guys I’ve met, and also taller than me. So it pisses me off that you think you’ll look bad without your glasses.”

Jongin blinked, staring at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo hoped he didn’t notice his red ears. As much as Kyungsoo was attracted to Jongin physically, he didn’t want to give him another advantage to blackmail him with.

“…you think I’m good-looking, then?” Jongin asked.

“You think I’d let you tap this otherwise?” Kyungsoo gave him a dry look, hoping to throw him off. No hope there; Jongin began to laugh quietly, under his breath. He looked… pleased. Kyungsoo forced a blank expression.

Silence fell between them. Jongin said nothing for several moments, and neither did Kyungsoo. While Jongin looked insightful about something, Kyungsoo was trying to come up with ways to take his phone, which was tantalizingly out of reach, in his outer coat pocket. As they walked, Kyungsoo noticed his coat swung slightly from the motion of his steps. Maybe if Kyungsoo could just slip his hand in without him noticing—

“Kyungsoo, are you hungry?” Jongin suddenly asked, turning to look at him.

“U-um,” Kyungsoo blinked, trying to recollect his thoughts. “There’s a yakitori stall just around the corner here. It’s the best, though I don’t know if you’ve tried it,” Jongin said.

“Sure,” Kyungsoo shrugged.

Jongin lightened up at once, for the hundredth time since Kyungsoo first woke up today. He couldn’t tell if Jongin was just a lighthearted guy or if there was truly something about Kyungsoo that made him happy.

 _Don’t get it twisted_ , Kyungsoo told himself as he trailed Jongin down the street. _You’re just here for the video. After that, we go our separate ways._

But it was easier said than done. Kyungsoo couldn’t remember the last time someone wanted to spend time with him just for the sake of it. All his friends were either mercenaries, gang members or EXO bodyguards… Jongin was just a normal person, set apart from Kyungsoo’s world.

“You like it salty or sweet?” Jongin’s voice suddenly broke through Kyungsoo’s thoughts. Kyungsoo had to shake himself inwardly, and found himself standing by a yakitori stall, smoke curling up from the grill. The yakitori smelled delicious, and Kyungsoo’s stomach growled in reply. The sight of food reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since he left Jongin’s apartment.

“Um, salty,” Kyungsoo said. Jongin’s eyes curled up. “I like ‘em salty too,” he said, before he turned to order.

They stood to one side, making way for people to pass on the sidewalk while waiting for their order. It’d been a while since Kyungsoo ate any street food; the Nanny Squad always got takeaway from nearby restaurants or fast food. Not that he had any complaints, but wasn’t food itself just part of an entire experience?

“Your arm, is it Hanka?” Jongin asked. Kyungsoo looked at him; he’d almost forgot how to make normal conversation.

“Yeah, it is,” Kyungsoo replied uncertainly. He’d expected Jongin to balk, or blanch and look away. Instead he nodded to himself, and reached out a hand.

“Can I touch?” The curiosity in his voice was palpable. Kyungsoo lifted his arm up. Jongin trailed his fingers gently over his forearm, sending tingles all the way to Kyungsoo’s brain. It wasn’t the first time someone touched his Better arm, but… this time felt different.

Jongin’s fingers continued to touch the joint that made up Kyungsoo’s elbow, eyes wide. “It’s… beautiful,” he breathed.

Kyungsoo felt a flare of pride. At least his arm wasn’t the shoddy kind, where underground mechanics just attached whatever piece of metal they could find to some wires. Hanka was meticulous when it came to details, shelling the delicate framework of Kyungsoo’s arm in a special kind of fibreglass. It was clear and malleable, but also bulletproof, thus protecting the inner workings of his arm.

“What about you?” Kyungsoo cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation in another direction. “Have you had any enhancements done?”

Jongin shook his head, his hair shaking out in all directions. Kyungsoo’s mouth dropped.

“Not even once?” Kyungsoo asked, visibly shocked. Everyone always wanted some kind of work done. It was impossible not to in this age; any sort of flaw a person might have could be fixed. Whether it was eyesight, hearing or cosmetic enhancement, anyone with a bit of money could be that closer to achieving perfection on their own terms.

“I’m all human,” Jongin shrugged, almost self-consciously. “Plus, I could never save up that kind of money to get myself enhanced.”

Kyungsoo nodded once. “I guess I get that. But don’t you ever think about how beneficial it could be? Maybe it doesn’t even have to be something like your eyes, or whatever. An enhanced liver or kidney could really do a number on ya.”

Jongin just laughed, shaking his head again. “Maybe someday. But not today.”

Just then, the guy at the yakitori stall called for Jongin. While Kyungsoo waited, he absently wondered what sort of enhancement Jongin might opt for one day.  

With a physique like his, it’d be a terrible waste to have any of his features modified. Kyungsoo actually quite liked that Jongin was all human.

Heavily enhanced girls were never his thing, and well, though it was his first time fucking around with a guy, Kyungsoo thought he wouldn’t attracted to a visibly enhanced man.  

Despite all the pros, there was something undeniably artificial about enhancements, one that never did sit quite well with Kyungsoo. Ironic, of course, since Kyungsoo was the one with twenty pounds’ worth of metal in one arm.

Call it kinky, but Kyungsoo loved the feel of warm flesh. As long as his lover didn’t have bionic legs or transmitters buried under their skin, Kyungsoo was ready to go.

“You keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna get offended,” Jongin said, when he returned with a brown paper bag with a few skewers sticking out. He took one and offered it to Kyungsoo, before biting into one of his own.

“Looking at you like what? I wasn’t looking,” Kyungsoo grumbled between chews. They began to walk again,

“Looking at me like it’s weird that I’m all human,” Jongin grinned, “is it so strange? Many people in my neighbourhood never get any work done. They think it messes with the human soul and the natural order of things.”

“It’s a surprise for me, that’s all,” Kyungsoo scoffed, “I’m surrounded by guys who are at least forty percent enhanced every day.”

“And they’ve all got arms like yours?” Jongin asked. He looked somewhat impressed, though Kyungsoo couldn’t tell if it was genuine or if he was just teasing. Kyungsoo shook his head, chewing thoughtfully.

“No. Chanyeol has enhanced eyes, legs and a shoulder, ‘cause of that one time he got shot at. Baekhyun has enhanced hands, a forearm and he’s savin’ up for a liver too…” Plus there were a few hackers under EXO who practically had their entire heads replaced (save for their brains, of course) so they could work more efficiently on their computers.

“That’s insane!” Jongin exclaimed, “they’re practically half robot already, and it’s still not enough?”

“Every time one imperfection is fixed, another emerges,” Kyungsoo shrugged. For now, he was content with his arm, but he thought that maybe he’d get his legs enhanced one day.

“Next thing you’ll tell me one of your guys has a glowing thing in his chest like Iron-Man,” Jongin snorted, laughing at his own joke. But they both knew that Iron-Man was fantasy at best; technology was moving so fast these days that Iron-Man looked obsolete next to some of the guys in EXO. Kyungsoo shrugged, dropping his now clean skewer to the ground. He grabbed at Jongin’s hand for another. While Jongin yammered on about enhancements, Kyungsoo saw another opportunity to grab his phone from his coat pocket.

He was using the wrong arm to hold on to Jongin’s hand, but it was worth a try anyway. So he reached forward into his pocket, and—”

“Oh, you have a little sauce here,” Jongin suddenly said, turning to face Kyungsoo. That put his pocket just out of reach, and Kyungsoo looked up to openly scowl at him. The wicked grin on Jongin’s face told him that Jongin had seen what just happened. 

“Just a little bit here…” Jongin brought up a hand to brush the corner of Kyungsoo’s mouth gently. Oh, for fuck’s sake, did Jongin think Kyungsoo was some shallow chit who could fall for a trick like that—

Apparently, Jongin didn’t. Just as Kyungsoo rolled his eyes, he tugged Kyungsoo forward roughly and kissed him full on the mouth. His shopping bags fell, forgotten, to the ground in a mess. Kyungsoo made a noise of surprise and grabbed at Jongin’s coat collar to push him away. Not that it mattered, because Jongin seemed determined to kiss the breath away in Kyungsoo’s lungs before he finally pulled away.

They stumbled apart, and people walking by gave them dirty looks. Some eyed them suspiciously, but neither noticed. Jongin had the nerve to smile and lick his lips when he met Kyungsoo’s furious gaze. _Handsome, tricksy bastard,_ Kyungsoo thought.

“That was good,” Jongin commented. They both knew he wasn’t talking about the yakitori. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes at Jongin, brushing past him to continue walking. He tried to pretend he was unaffected, but he knew Jongin had noticed his reddened ears.

After a few minutes of walking, they finished the yakitori and Jongin tossed the skewers into a bin. They found an optometry store not long after and walked in.

This particular store had no human sales assistants, but instead three AI robots waiting to serve customers who walked in. All three greeted them upon entering, and Kyungsoo approached the closest one. The robot looked like a mannequin, with minimal facial features and a screen in her middle. It displayed a short welcome message as she wheeled over to stand behind the counter between them.

“Welcome to Mikagami Optometry. How may I help you, sir?” her disconnected voice asked.

“Prices for laser sessions, please,” Kyungsoo said brusquely.

There was a beep, before the screen in her middle displayed a table. Kyungsoo and Jongin peered at the screen together.

“I don’t wanna get my eyes lasered though,” Jongin said to Kyungsoo as he read the prices with a frown.

Kyungsoo gave him a dry look. “You can’t honestly wear your glasses every day for the rest of your life.” Jongin frowned, shaking his head.

“It’s just too expensive, Kyungsoo. I’d really rather just have my glasses,” he said. Kyungsoo gave a weary sigh. “Does it really look like money’s a problem with me?” he asked. After all, he’d just spent a small fortune on clothes for Jongin, so what was a laser session? It’d last Jongin at least two years, and maybe his improved eyesight would help him see that neither of them were kids anymore.

“At least look at the prices for contact lenses,” Jongin insisted, “if they’re cheaper, then I’ll give them a try.” 

Now that, Kyungsoo could make do with. So he did, and the prices displayed were much cheaper.

“They’re charging a little extra if you don’t know your prescription, but it won’t cost more than one laser session,” Kyungsoo informed Jongin. With a resigned expression, he nodded reluctantly.

“…I guess that’s fine. But Kyungsoo, you don’t have to—”

“Hand over your glasses,” Kyungsoo cut him off, reaching out a hand, “they’re going to scan it to get your prescription.” Obediently, Jongin took them off and folded them, placing it in Kyungsoo’s palm. In the back of his mind, Kyungsoo thought Jongin looked much better without his glasses. If possible, he sort of looked sexier without them on.

 _Looks too good for his own good,_ Kyungsoo thought.

The AI robot took Jongin’s glasses from Kyungsoo carefully in her stiff, plastic hands, requesting that they wait for a few minutes. She began to busy herself behind the counter, scanning and going about proceeding with Kyungsoo’s order.

Meanwhile, Kyungsoo and Jongin sat down at the chairs provided. Glasses of water were served by a different AI robot while they waited, and the bill was produced. Kyungsoo paid with his credit card, hardly glancing at the bill.

“Thank you,” Jongin said, in a quiet voice. Kyungsoo gave him a measured look.

“You’re welcome.”

Jongin looked as if he was bursting with questions. Kyungsoo cocked an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure about spending this much on me?” Jongin asked uncertainly.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo replied, “what else I got to spend on anyway? And since I wasn’t drugged and mugged last night thanks to you, consider this as me repaying my debt to you.” Jongin was shaking his head before he was even done talking.

“But I just happened to pass by and saw you.”

“And you also just happened to record me last night with your phone,” Kyungsoo pretended to tap on his chin, “I suppose things _just_ _happen_.”

Jongin grinned at that. Without his glasses blocking half of his face, he was stunning to look at. Kyungsoo forced a half-smile and looked away, wondering why in hell Jongin was so intent on clinging to him like stubborn chewing gum.

 _Maybe after this, he won’t_ , Kyungsoo mused.

Boys and girls would be throwing themselves at him by the hordes, irresistibly handsome as he was. And with his excellent skills with his mouth, Jongin would land a lover sooner rather than later.

The wait for Jongin’s prescription lenses did not take long. The AI robot handed Kyungsoo a paper bag filled with several boxes of daily disposable lenses, supposed to last Jongin a month. She also gave Kyungsoo a card to scan the next time they came in for a discount. Jongin looked like he was about to fall over when Kyungsoo handed him the paper bag, both of his hands already full as it were.

“I…” Jongin looked like he didn’t know what to do.

“You were the one who wanted to spend time with me,” Kyungsoo pointed out. But Kyungsoo wasn’t completely cruel, and took one of Jongin’s shopping bags to even out the burden. They left the store, and Jongin was once again wagging his metaphoric tail in excitement.

“Where to now?” Jongin beamed. Kyungsoo had no particular destination in mind. “Wherever you wanna go, I guess.”

So they took the bus at Jongin’s behest to Sony Towers in another part of Shinjuku. It was a seventy-floor building with an acclaimed view of all of Tokyo at the top, and Jongin had never been to see it. Kyungsoo hadn’t either, but while he lacked interest he figured Jongin would be distracted enough that Kyungsoo could slip a hand into his pocket.

Thus they went to the Sony Towers, paying a small entrance fee before taking the elevator all the way to the top.

Turns out Sony wasn’t exaggerating about the view; they really did have a 360 degrees view of Tokyo, from the city centre all the way to the dark borders of the Lawless Zone. The sun was just setting too, colouring the entire city in varying shades of orange and red.

Jongin couldn’t stop going, “Wow… Wow, Kyungsoo, look at that bridge,” or “We’re so high up, Kyungsoo!” the entire time. His eyes shone brightly like a child’s with wonder, taking in the view.

Kyungsoo would’ve thought him adorable, until he reached a hand into Jongin’s pocket and felt Jongin clapping down on it. For a kindergarten teacher, Jongin was awfully sharp…

Then came the searing kiss, right in front of all the children and parents around them. Jongin had the fucking nerve to slip his tongue in. Kyungsoo’s cheeks grew aflame, and he elbowed Jongin so hard he was still feeling his ribs tenderly when they took the elevator down.

Next came dinner. Jongin gently nudged Kyungsoo to recommend him a place, since he’d introduced him to that yakitori stall earlier. Kyungsoo thought about it, and decided to take him to a hot pot restaurant that he’d heard of in Shinjuku from Baekhyun.

There were a number of reasons why; first, Jongin had never been to a proper hot pot restaurant. Secondly, it was going to be hot, which meant Jongin would take off his coat. Lastly, fishing food out of the hot pot would be distracting enough for Kyungsoo to nab the phone out of his coat pocket.

A simple enough plan. And Jongin was human; he could still be distracted.

Despite himself, Kyungsoo almost felt guilty for plotting against Jongin when they walked with the sunset on their back and he’d caught Jongin’s shadow reaching out for Kyungsoo’s hand.

Their shadows looked like they were holding hands, walking down the street like young lovers. For some reason, a lump formed in Kyungsoo’s throat.

 _It’s nothing,_ he kept telling himself. _You already know how this is going to end._

The guilt faded away however, when they found the place and Jongin’s metaphoric tail was wagging once again. Kyungsoo requested for a private room this time, having learned his lesson about Jongin and his lack of modesty in public. If there was any forced kissing to be had, at the very least, no one would see.

“There’s like a thousand dishes on the menu,” Jongin gushed, looking through the tablet displaying page after page of vegetables, premium cuts as well as other things meant for the hot pot itself. Jongin had tapped on more than a dozen already, and he still wasn’t done.

“You like squid? Jellyfish? Octopus? Ooh, they have large prawns too,” Jongin squealed.

“Yeah, I’m fine with most stuff. Just order whatever you want,” Kyungsoo told him, hoping to soften him up. After all, Jongin probably couldn’t afford fancy restaurants like these very often. The private room was decorated much like a traditional Japanese teahouse, with cushions for them to sit by the low table, sunken into the floor. Baekhyun said it was romantic, like going back in time. Perhaps Jongin would share the same sentiments.

Because if the tides hadn’t turned by the end of this dinner, then Kyungsoo could guilt-trip Jongin into deleting that infernal video from his phone. He still had his hopes for now though, and eyed Jongin’s coat on the floor beside him. So close, yet so far…

“They have duck flavoured soup, spicy soup, chicken soup, and even vegetable soup. Can we get the pot with two types of soup?” Jongin asked, his eyes practically boggling out of their sockets. Kyungsoo nodded.

“I usually get that anyway,” he told Jongin. And after ordering nearly sixty dishes, Jongin took a break from the tablet, nodding gratefully when an AI waitress came by with their drinks. Kyungsoo had ordered sake, while Jongin ordered hot tea. Jongin eyed the sake pointedly.

“Wanna share?” Kyungsoo asked, gesturing at the bottle of sake. The waitress had brought two cups anyway, assuming that they’d want to share. Jongin shook his head.

“I don’t… usually drink,” Jongin said slowly.

“Are you a lightweight?” Kyungsoo asked, pouring out two glasses. Jongin stared. “I suppose I am, since I’m not exactly training myself.”

“Good,” Kyungsoo pushed one glass at him. Getting him drunk would make stealing his phone a whole lot easier. Jongin lifted an eyebrow at him, seeing right through him like a book. Kyungsoo shrugged; no point hiding it now that they’d come to this point.

“Drinking makes me feel like I have no control,” Jongin said, picking up the glass and swirling the sake around. Kyungsoo swallowed his in one gulp, already refilling his glass.

Jongin, on the other hand, seemed to think about it for a moment. Then he downed the glass, wincing as it went down his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and Kyungsoo all but teared his gaze away from it, pouring Jongin another cup.

“Having no control, even just over my body, reminds me of… too much,” Jongin said, lowering his voice. Kyungsoo knew what he meant even without him saying it.

Guilt panged in Kyungsoo’s chest, but he steeled himself. No, he refused to feel anything more for this man. Jongin had no business seeking out Kyungsoo like this, even if it was just a coincidence last night. He could be gutted like an animal if Kyungsoo’s father ever found out. Whatever gratitude he thought he owed Kyungsoo was simply a childish whim, and he needed to understand that he was playing with fire.

“Aren’t you getting the wrong idea?” Kyungsoo asked.

Jongin blinked up at him, his hands stilling.

“You need to stop angling for pity, Jongin, ‘cause you’re not going to get it from me,” Kyungsoo said, even as the words were bitter on his mouth.

“We’re here now, but after tonight, you of all people should know that I’ll be gone. Whether you delete that video or not, my men are gonna come looking for me, and they won’t care who they’ll take out in the process.”

Jongin appeared shocked for a moment. Then his face smoothed into comprehension, which irked Kyungsoo.

“Then why do you look so guilty?”

Kyungsoo’s hand paused midair, the sake trembling.

“I know you’re not completely cruel. You can lie to yourself and act unfeeling, Kyungsoo, but you’re nice beneath it all. Major or not, you have a heart. I saw it in you back then, and I still see it now.”

“Shut. Up,” Kyungsoo gritted, turning red with embarrassment.

Incredible hate filled Kyungsoo till it was hard to breathe. Who was this fucker, thinking he could read Kyungsoo easily? Kyungsoo was the Major, he could be heartless and cruel when he wanted to be. It was what his father expected out of him; compassion would only kill him on the field—

“I’m in love with you, Kyungsoo,” Jongin said, his voice jarring in the abrupt silence of the room. Kyungsoo met his gaze, found it steady and unwavering. Kyungsoo already knew he wasn’t a deceiver anyway; the man wore his emotions on his sleeve. He was a complete fool, and it was going to get him killed.

“It’s why I asked you out,” Jongin went on, voice shaking slightly, “not because I thought you owed me after I brought you home last night. Not because you changed my life when we were kids.”

“And you’re telling me this why?” Kyungsoo replied. He was angry at himself when he found that his voice wavered.

“Because I want things to be clear between us, all cards on the table,” Jongin’s lower lip trembled. It was the only sign he was nervous. _What a fool_ , Kyungsoo thought. _He really thinks he’s in love with me._

The door slid open, breaking the tension. Several AI robots began to filter in and out at once, placing plate after plate of food on the table, then arranging them on the floor when the table ran out of space. Jongin stared at Kyungsoo over them, but he pointedly ignored him. Kyungsoo didn’t understand why Jongin looked at him with such intensity, like he was his lifeline and he’d do anything to hold on.

 _Don’t feel_ , Kyungsoo instructed himself. It was the first rule he’d learned when he became Major. _Don’t feel._

When the AIs finally cleared out, Jongin looked at him expectantly. Kyungsoo swallowed his sake. “You don’t know me enough to be in love,” he said snappishly.

“Then I want a chance to know,” Jongin said, voice grave. He looked more serious than Kyungsoo had ever seen before. _For all the wrong reasons_ , Kyungsoo thought. Jongin struck him as the type to make up his mind and never change it, not for any reason. But Kyungsoo could be just as stubborn.

“You idiot, don’t you know what happens to people who try to get involved with the yakuza?” Kyungsoo muttered, “And this puts you dangerously close to Hanka. Have you even considered that?”

“I don’t care,” Jongin said. “My life, my world, has been built around you, to be with you. I don’t care about Hanka or EXO. I’ve taken enough steps to be safe, and I’ll take more if it means I can be near you,” he looked as if he struggled with this fact, as if it pained him and yet, it was necessary.

“I just want to be kind to you. I know I could never give you a lavish, grand life…” he took a deep, shuddering breath, “but I want to try to make you happy. In any way I can,” he emphasized.

There was no trickery in his words, just plain honesty. He was just— so bloody hopeful. Like trying to make Kyungsoo happy was the biggest honour anyone could bestow upon him. Except it wasn’t, because Jongin was a normal guy, outside of EXO. Any other man in the world would be lucky to have Jongin, would be glad to make _him_ happy in return. Why he desperately wanted something between them made no fucking sense to Kyungsoo.

“I need a break,” Kyungsoo said, unable to meet Jongin’s eyes. He stood, unsteady at his feet. He had to end this now, before Jongin got his hopes up. Kyungsoo had to give him a clean break, else Jongin ruined himself.

Kyungsoo walked past the table to get to the door, which was directly behind Jongin. He wanted to make it quick; all he needed to do was bend down and swipe for the phone, and he could leave. Five steps was all Kyungsoo needed.

He counted the first three in his head. At the fourth, his Better arm shot out for Jongin’s coat, and by the fifth, he’d grasped it—

Jongin’s hand curled around Kyungsoo’s bicep, and pulled hard.

Taken by surprise, Kyungsoo’s legs gave way and he fell right over Jongin. His instincts kicked in fast enough that he landed hard on his palms, draped over Jongin’s hard body. Then he felt Jongin’s arms around him, recognized that he was going to flipped over the way Jongin did to him last night.

But Jongin had too firm a grip on him, and soon Kyungsoo was on his back, his breath knocked out of him. “You idiot,” he spat, even as Jongin hovered over him carefully. Kyungsoo’s struggles were futile; Jongin was too heavy, his body weighing down on Kyungsoo’s thighs so he couldn’t move.

“You should never have picked me up last night—”

Jongin’s mouth covered his, pressing down hotly. He kissed Kyungsoo deep, like he was thinking he’d never see Kyungsoo again. Kyungsoo could taste the distress on his mouth, wishing he didn’t have a heart so he could stop feeling. Even now, his body responded to Jongin’s kiss, coming alive under his body. God, Jongin had to know what his mouth was doing to Kyungsoo every time they kissed.

Kyungsoo ceased struggling and dug his hands into Jongin’s hair, crushing the strands to hold him closer. He hated the way Jongin enslaved his body, but there was no point in pretending that Kyungsoo didn’t feel anything from this. In fact, Kyungsoo thought he wouldn’t care if Jongin wanted to fuck him here and now. They could do it right there on the floor, rutting like animals. And Kyungsoo would let him because when it came to Jongin, things like common sense went right out the window.

Sometime between the hot and heavy kisses and Jongin’s body grinding down subtly on Kyungsoo’s crotch, Kyungsoo dimly noted that his face was now wet. He didn’t comprehend it at first; he could barely focus on anything but Jongin.

But then he felt Jongin still over him, and his shoulders began to shudder. Kyungsoo frowned, turning his head to one side to look at him.

He was… crying?

Jongin turned away from Kyungsoo too, as if he didn’t want Kyungsoo to see his tears. He wiped his tears furiously with his shirt, sniffling a little. Kyungsoo attempted to sit up, but was pushed back down by Jongin. He buried his face in Kyungsoo’s chest, his sobs muffled.

 _Why the fuck is he crying?_ Kyungsoo furrowed his brows together in confusion.

Well, okay, maybe Kyungsoo had been a bit harsh on him. But his tears seemed a tad bit too much; they’d only really known each other for a day... Surely Jongin wasn’t such a complete, besotted fool? And then there was the fact that Kyungsoo had never really broken up with anyone before. He had no idea how to go about it, and had to wonder if tears were just a natural thing.

“I’m sorry,” Jongin moaned into his shirt. There was a big, wet spot now on his front. Kyungsoo was probably going to leave this restaurant looking like he had zero table manners.

“Tell me what to do,” Jongin whispered.

“Huh?” was all Kyungsoo could manage in this baffling situation.

“I don’t know what to do,” Jongin choked out, “what am I supposed to say? To make you feel the way I feel for you. I have no idea, and— I don’t want to be that guy. I don’t want to force you.”

It was then Kyungsoo realized; this fucker really wanted him, and badly.

Somehow through the years, he’d remained in Jongin’s mind for so long that there was no way for Jongin to picture life without Kyungsoo. And like a man crazed with thirst in the middle of a desert, he’d latched himself upon Kyungsoo the second he’d seen him last night at that damned playground.

But it felt twisted, really, because wouldn’t that mean Jongin had been in love with the idea of Kyungsoo all along? Obviously a lot of things had changed. Kyungsoo wasn’t a kid with his toys anymore; his games had become real, all too deadly.

And yet, Kyungsoo couldn’t deny that Jongin’s earnest was tugging at his heartstrings. Jongin could want anyone and have anyone. He could’ve found himself a pretty wife, and have pretty kids. Or maybe a man, someone who could spoil him till the end of days. Someone _safe_ , who would never think about putting his life in jeopardy. And he still chose Kyungsoo.

Even Kyungsoo wouldn’t have chosen himself. Every day could be his last. Each day he lived was a day too long in his enemy’s minds. That wouldn’t be fair to Jongin.

“I’m sorry,” Jongin moaned, “I’m sorry.” His voice was hoarse. Kyungsoo felt something poking him at his side. Absently, he grabbed at it, and realized it was Jongin’s phone.

“I’m sorry…” Jongin’s sobs continued to wrack his body. It had been his goal all day to have the phone. And now he did, he could walk out of this room. Kyungsoo could wash his hands clean of this mess and forget it ever happened in the first place.

Kyungsoo sighed inwardly, releasing the phone. He placed a hand on Jongin’s head, staring up at the ceiling blankly. _Don’t feel, don’t feel._

But he was already feeling.

“You’re gonna cry yourself sick,” Kyungsoo said softly. Sniffling, Jongin slowly moved away to look up at him. His eyes and nose were red, puffy with tears. Kyungsoo swiped a thumb under his eye. Fuck, even like this Jongin was beautiful. Kyungsoo didn’t know how he could ever think he’d be able to resist.

-

Kyungsoo stood by the train station, smoking a cigarette.

Actually, he didn’t like cigarettes. They left a bad taste in his mouth, and were incredibly expensive. But they took his mind off things and also gave him something to do while he waited for the Nanny Squad to come pick him up.

After wiping Jongin’s tears at the restaurants with a dozen paper napkins, they’d set about to eating dinner. Jongin had engorged himself on the food, eating as fast as he could dump them in the pot to boil. Kyungsoo assumed it was because he’d tired himself out from working and then roaming about with Kyungsoo all day. But for Kyungsoo, he ate because he had no idea what to make of them anymore.

What did psychologists call it? Stress-eating? Well, Kyungsoo was fucking stressed, and goddamn if he couldn’t drown out his inner turmoil with seafood.

Then after Kyungsoo paid for the bill, they finally walked to the train station to part ways. Jongin had taken one look at him before he went down the escalator and said, “You’ll meet me again?”

“…yeah,” Kyungsoo replied, unable to meet his gaze, “I’ll call you.”

Jongin had smiled, looking like he was on the verge of tears again. To remedy it, Kyungsoo quickly said, “Go home and sleep. You’re just… drunk. All that liquor’s gotten to your head.” Even though they both knew that Jongin had had only one drink.  

Jongin stifled a laugh. “Okay,” he said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “Bye.”

He’d waved weakly, and subconsciously, Kyungsoo had waved back. He stiffened when he realized what he was doing, and cursed himself. Waving was for schoolgirls and little kids. Not for a Major in a yakuza group.

To remind himself of that, he’d taken his phone and reassembled it, turning it back on. There were countless missed calls from Chanyeol, and several threats sent by Baekhyun through text. Kyungsoo hadn’t bothered to reply any of them, since he knew that as soon his phone was powered on, they would track him down immediately. But that would take time, hence the quick stop at the super mart for the pack of cigarettes.

 _I have to be careful not to get caught up_ , Kyungsoo thought, leaning back on the wall. He blew smoke upwards, and watched the tendrils curl in the neon streetlight. He had to be very careful indeed. Jongin was a slippery slope, and Kyungsoo was walking without no safety belt on.

It’d be easy. Kyungsoo could do this. It wasn’t like they were committed in marriage. Jongin had asked for a chance to make Kyungsoo happy. And Kyungsoo wasn’t that hard to please anyway, so it’d probably mean a couple of dates a week or something.

They could get to know each other as friends first. If Jongin really wanted to be his— Kyungsoo shuddered— boyfriend by the end of the month, then… Well, he’d figure something out. Kyungsoo inhaled on the cigarette, watching the other end burn bright. Then he exhaled a gust of smoke again, watching as if hypnotized.

 _Is he crazy?_ Kyungsoo asked himself.

Maybe. Maybe Kyungsoo was crazy for giving in too. At least the sex would be good, if nothing else…

“Hey.” Kyungsoo turned to the sound of Baekhyun’s voice. Ah, just when he thought he’d never see the Nanny Squad again. And this time they came prepared. Baekhyun’s gun glinted like a warning, tucked into the front of his pants. Chanyeol was there too; he had salt and vinegar Lay’s and a bottle of vodka in hand, as if they’d thought to entice Kyungsoo into the waiting car like a child.

 _A waste of effort_ , Kyungsoo thought to himself. A lot had happened since he escaped his apartment almost two days ago. Kyungsoo felt like he was no longer the same person he was then.

“Pop the vodka, will you?” he said, flicking the cigarette to the ground and stomping a foot on it briefly.

“Soon as you get in the car,” Baekhyun motioned. Kyungsoo kicked back from the wall, and sauntered towards the car as ordered. Chanyeol looked surprised that Kyungsoo wasn’t putting up a fight; Baekhyun’s hand went to his gun almost unconsciously.

“Good boy,” Baekhyun remarked absently, trailing after him till he got in. He shut the door after Kyungsoo, then got in at the driver’s seat while Chanyeol clambered into the back with Kyungsoo. It was an unnecessary step; Kyungsoo wasn’t going to try and make a run for it. At least, not tonight.

“Since when did you smoke?” Chanyeol asked, holding the vodka bottle out to him. He’d popped the cover, and the heavy, thick smell of vodka reached Kyungsoo’s nose.

“Ever since I mixed in with the wrong crowd,” Kyungsoo replied elusively, “they tempted me with vodka, chips, and told me to get in the car.” He took a pointed swig from the bottle, and Chanyeol lifted a brow at him.

“This isn’t funny, y’know,” Baekhyun said from the front. They were driving through the streets now. Kyungsoo wondered if Jongin had gotten on his train yet.

“Commander’s pretty pissed you ran out. Especially when he had something important to tell you this morning,” Baekhyun told him, glancing at Kyungsoo in the rearview mirror. Kyungsoo sighed; there was always ‘something important’ these days. Kyungsoo just couldn’t tell if it was important because he was his father’s son or because he was the Major.

“What about?” he asked, hugging the bottle to himself.

“Can’t say for sure,” Chanyeol replied, “it’s classified. The order came all the way from the top.” Ah, so Hanka had a mission for EXO. Well, that was nothing new. What would be new is if Kyungsoo’s father had finally decided to send Kyungsoo as the leader of the team assigned to the mission. Putting him in a spot of leadership was the next logical step in training him to be the Commander, thus was unavoidable.

But Kyungsoo couldn’t help the stir of interest in the back of his mind; what kind of mission would it be?

“I think you’ll like the little gift they threw in though,” Baekhyun said, mistaking Kyungsoo’s contemplative silence for dejection. “Hanka thought throwing you a bone might be an incentive to get you going.”

How thoughtful. Except gifts from Hanka were usually deadly in wrong or inexperienced hands.  

Either way, Kyungsoo couldn’t say he was happy or pissed. His life, his body, had been sworn to Hanka since the day he was born. It was foolish to have thought otherwise.

 


	2. 'cause you been searching for that someone (and it's me out on the prowl)

“Dad!”

Jongin’s voice was hoarse from screaming, his face wet from tears. The man holding on to Jongin’s hair in a death grip squeezed impossibly harder as Jongin struggled, reaching out to his parents. They were lying on the ground in their own blood, warm crimson soaking into the carpet.

“Shut it, will ya, kid?” one of the men snarled at him. He used the butt of his gun to hit Jongin in the head, dizzying Jongin enough to make him speechless.  His thoughts scattered, and black threatened to overpower him at once. His body grew slack, and he felt about as useful as a bag of potatoes.

Jongin dug his nails into the ground, determined to stay conscious. His ears were ringing, but he could just make out what the men were saying over him.

“What’re we gonna do with him now that he’s seen the bodies?” one asked.

The bodies. His father, his mother.

 _Their bodies._ Jongin could still the blood despite the black spots in his vision. His mother’s hair looked darker, soaked in her own blood…

  _How did this happen?_ Jongin asked himself. He was in the kitchen just a little over an hour ago, rummaging through the fridge for a snack. His mother had chastised him lightly, reminding him that a snack would ruin his appetite.

The food on the dining table was still untouched. His parents had been waiting for him. A minute sooner and Jongin would’ve joined them on the ground in a pool of his own blood too.

“I’d kill him, if we’re honest,” another man said. Jongin felt sick in the stomach. Bile rose up in the back of his throat. _I’ll never see my mother again._

“The Commander would never give that order,” a third man continued to say, “just take a look at ‘im. Same age as his kid.”

“Yeah. That lil’ imp couldn’t take it and ran out a minute ago. If he’s gonna be the Major someday, I’m not exactly hopeful—” Whatever he wanted to say was cut off. An order was barked at the men who were holding Jongin captive.

He felt the grip on his hair tightening once again, and Jongin was pulled forward.

Jongin tried to drag his feet, but the only thing he succeeded in doing was bringing himself back into sharp reality. Suddenly, all five of his senses had come to life. He could smell blood in the air, feel it smearing his legs from where the men stepped over a puddle. He blinked repeatedly to clear his vision, and caught sight of a red tattoo, inked just above a thumb…

Jongin opened his eyes, a pillow propped over his face.

His alarm was going off, but it was only just fading in now, as if someone had stuffed his ears with cotton. Sweat soaked his shirt, making it uncomfortable to be lying down.

Slowly, reluctantly, Jongin reached over to shut off his alarm and sat up. The covers were tangled around his legs and waist, twisted into clumps. _What a way to wake up,_ he thought.

It’d been years since his parents died but the nightmares still haunted him. Memories of the way their bodies were twisted lifelessly on the ground. Red surrounding them, like a vision straight from hell. The helplessness as the men held him back. They didn’t happen every night, but it happened often enough to make him feel like there was no such thing as closure.

And just as he was going on a streak too. It’d been a blessed week since he’d had any nightmares. But the previous night was by far the best sleep he’d ever had. After Jongin spent nearly all of his energy trying to lug Kyungsoo’s leaden body back to his apartment and spending whatever strength he had left in pleasuring Kyungsoo, he’d fallen blissfully asleep beside him. No nightmares, no dreams, nothing.

If that wasn’t good enough, the morning after was… indescribable. Jongin had awakened with Kyungsoo still beside him, dozing peacefully.

The only man he’d ever loved in years, right there on his bed. For the first time in his life, he’d felt accomplished. The burden on his shoulders had eased some, and for a few precious moments, Jongin breathed easy.

Then of course, Kyungsoo had woken up and punched him right in the face within five minutes. Jongin expected nothing less from the Major.

So why did regret sit on his chest like a phantom now? He remembered confessing to Kyungsoo last night, about everything. Even to Jongin, it was all too much for one man in one day, and it wasn’t surprising when Kyungsoo reacted badly to it.

Jongin had thought to break it to him gently, to show him how grateful he was and how much he wanted Kyungsoo, in any way he could get. Whether as a friend or as a lover, he wouldn’t have cared. He just… wanted to be in Kyungsoo’s life, the way Kyungsoo always had been in Jongin’s.

But there was a limit to how much Jongin could lie to himself.

Jongin wasn’t stupid enough to think that over a decade of obsessively searching for someone was normal. It wasn’t. Maybe he was fucked up after all that childhood trauma. Kyungsoo probably knew it, which was why he would never reciprocate Jongin’s feelings.

Well. What a way to wake up.

*

“What is _that_?”

Kyungsoo pointed incredulously at a mannequin, made of clear, hard plastic. It was wearing a white full body suit, with blue rays flickering over it constantly. The way the rays moved looked like waves moving towards a shore, giving the suit a strange, lifelike feel. Kyungsoo suspected it was expensive, and very hard to make.

“A retro-reflection suit,” Jongdae replied with a distracted smile. He was standing over a desk with a laptop, and was typing furiously onto it. Jongdae was one of Hanka’s best scientists, assigned to work with EXO whenever necessary. In this case, they’d sent him as a Hanka representative to present Kyungsoo this suit, presumably to show him what it would do.

Kyungsoo hoped they wouldn’t make him wear it. The suit was rather… form-fitting, to say the least. He didn’t want to show anyone anything they didn’t need to see.

“Retro-reflection? Is that what I think it is?” Chanyeol asked.

The Nanny Squad had brought Kyungsoo in not half an hour ago, after hustling him out of bed to get him into the car. Apparently all of them had overslept, and they’d arrived at the Hanka Towers with barely three minutes to spare. Upon arrival, they were ushered into a small room, and Jongdae had stepped in shortly after, dragging the mannequin along like he was some new age fashion designer.  

“Stop, not everyone speaks nerd around here,” Kyungsoo held up a hand at Chanyeol. Baekhyun chuckled lightly, stepping forward to eye the suit more closely.

“It’s an invisible suit, Kyungsoo. Military jets and planes have retro-reflection panels, to camouflage in a battlefield. Up until now, I’d heard that the technology was too complicated to be made into a suit for men to use,” Baekhyun said, glancing at Jongdae.

“Well, Hanka’s ambitious as ever,” Jongdae shrugged, “it’s just a prototype, but we’ve finally made an invisible suit. Works in broad daylight, and is undetectable in darkness. Costed Hanka millions, and will sell for much more if it’s taken to the next stage.” Kyungsoo pursed his lips. He supposed that was where he was expected to step in. He was going to be a guinea pig for Hanka. Ah, how the tables have turned.

 “Will it fry me if I wear it?” Kyungsoo asked lightly. Hanka was good but… well, there was always a chance for it to fail spectacularly.

“Well, tests show that it won’t, but there’s a reason why it’s still considered a prototype,” Jongdae hedged. Excellent. Kyungsoo could potentially be electrocuted by his own clothes. Who would’ve thought that that was the way he’d go?

“If it’s any consolation, it’s worked brilliantly so far,” Jongdae said hastily, “we’ve had an AI come in to try the suit and it hasn’t malfunctioned. In fact, it functions so well that I have little doubt that this won’t be the next thing Hanka shows off to the rest of the world.” Since Jongdae sounded confident, Kyungsoo supposed it wouldn’t hurt to try it on.

Besides, Jongdae was the scientist who’d worked on Kyungsoo’s Better arm, and was usually the one to patch him up if Kyungsoo got too rough with it. If he said it was alright, then it was. But Kyungsoo could tell Jongdae was just trying to distract him.

There was an undercurrent to all of this. Kyungsoo’s father hadn’t called him out here for nothing.

“If this thing is so valuable then…” Kyungsoo cocked his head at Jongdae, “the mission must be pretty important. Hanka doesn’t just give out free stuff every time I come in.” Kyungsoo made a point of stepping away from the suit, as if he was about to reject this gift from Hanka. Jongdae prickled uncomfortably. Obviously he knew something they didn’t.

“Yes, you’re right. It will be an asset to have the suit with you for this mission but…” Jongdae shrugged half-heartedly, “I don’t know how far it can protect you.”

“Tell me my mission then,” Kyungsoo said in resignation. Rip off the Band-Aid now or never.

“I’m not in the position to tell you,” Jongdae ceded, “only the Commander is.”

Hm. Kyungsoo squinted, but he could see no other choice. Now that he was forced to wait until his father came around, Kyungsoo surrendered to Jongdae, who went about setting up the suit for Kyungsoo. He hooked the suit up to Kyungsoo using the plugs in the back of Kyungsoo’s neck, allowing it to scan his fingerprints and his body.

“By scanning your fingerprints, this suit is now officially yours. It will only recognize your prints, so if it’s compromised, it’ll be useless in the hands of another,” Jongdae explained.

“Unless they cut off his hands,” Baekhyun commented. Kyungsoo flipped him the bird.

“Unlikely, since cutting off Kyungsoo’s bionic hand will be a little trickier,” Jongdae laughed, “but in relation to that, if you _do_ get your hand cut off, this suit will tell you. It’ll screen you physically, and advise you in the nearest hospital, Hanka workshop or EXO office… It’s all programmed into the suit.”

“To make it more ridiculously expensive than it already is?” Kyungsoo asked brightly.

“Hey, at least you’re getting it for free…” Jongdae replied, no bite in his voice. He typed something onto his laptop, then appeared satisfied when the laptop beeped. Then Jongdae unplugged Kyungsoo from the suit, wrapping the wires around his finger.

“Alright, you’re all set. Sure you don’t wanna try it on here, see if it fits? We took your measurements, but you never know.”

“I’ll live,” Kyungsoo replied. He wasn’t about to drop his pants in an office with the Nanny Squad. They’d never live let him live it down, and plus, Kyungsoo didn’t think his father needed to see how much his son had grown over the last decade.

Fortunately, Kyungsoo’s modesty saved him any embarrassment. There was a knock at the door, and without any preamble, a man entered. He had a metal jaw, and carried a shiny, silver briefcase. Typical EXO man, down to the furrow between his brows. “The Commander is here,” he announced in a monotone voice.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun tensed at once. Chanyeol got to his feet, while Baekhyun removed his hands from his pockets. The office got a lot smaller when more men filtered in, serving as a barricade of humans for the one man in an all-black suit and freshly polished shoes. Kyungsoo met his father’s glance for no more than half a second before he bowed deeply. Chanyeol and Baekhyun did the same.

“Like the suit?” his father called gruffly.

“It’s a little tight,” Kyungsoo remarked drily. Jongdae excused himself, dragging the mannequin along. “I’ll pack it up for you,” he mouthed at Kyungsoo as he made his exit.

“Get used to it,” his father replied, sitting down in the seat Chanyeol just vacated. “Now, I don’t have a lot of time so we’ll just have to get straight to it,” his father said, snapping his fingers. As he did so, his tattoo above his thumb flashed, and Kyungsoo remembered Jongin last night. The way he’d broken down into silent tears. His heartfelt confession, Kyungsoo’s resolve crumbling to pieces… Kyungsoo had to remind himself to breathe. 

One of the Commander’s men turned off the lights. Another activated the holographic 3D display in the centre of the room, handing the Commander a tablet.  

Kyungsoo stood against the wall behind him, maintaining a respectful distance between himself and his father.

“Your mission is to apprehend this— man, possibly an organization. Still don’t have a lot of intel on him, but we suspect he doesn’t work alone,” his father said, as he tapped on the tablet. He held it up to Kyungsoo, and on the screen, there was a dead man, lying face down on a table.

“He’s dead,” Kyungsoo felt compelled to point out.

“Of course he is. Dr. Osmond was a Hanka scientist, killed last night. The third victim this week, ghost-hacked by his service robot while hosting the South African president for Hanka.” More pictures. Osmond lay dead on an operating table, his eyes dried up. There were other victims too, in similar states as Dr. Osmond. Apparently, there were no survivors.

Other pictures showed the service robot mentioned; it was a geisha bot, made of metal and shelled delicately in porcelain. Kyungsoo had seen them before on the streets and thought them beautiful, but eerie. The images he now saw didn’t help his perception much; her inner workings behind her face lay exposed, blown wide open and riddled with bullets. Wires dangled out of her mouth. The geisha looked more like an insect.  

“Third victim, huh? So someone’s intentionally targeting Hanka scientists?” Kyungsoo asked. Not that it was all too surprising. But it still took guts to target scientists like that, more so to take them out one at a time in such a short period. Whoever it was clearly didn’t fear retribution, or was confident that he’d be able to get away.

“Yes,” his father said grimly, “and they’re top scientists, key members in several projects.” Ah, that explained why EXO was dispatched. Usually, Hanka tried to solve their problems through Section 9, a private, government-funded sector. They were much like EXO, sent to do Hanka’s dirty work; the only difference was that Section 9 was legal.  

“Anyway, the culprit is still on the loose, which means no one is safe at Hanka. Luckily, with the geisha bot, we managed to trace where we think the geisha was compromised and modified for ghost-hacking. I want you to go there, Kyungsoo, see if this culprit left any clues.”

“How do you know he’s not working alone?”

“All the kills were made far too efficiently for one man to execute it alone. The research, the stalking and the data clean up… Even the most enhanced men have their limits. But he’s left a message at all the crime sites. Identifies himself as Taemin, but that hasn’t gotten us anywhere. At the very least, his intentions are clear,” his father said, playing an audio file. There were some static, weird noises, before Kyungsoo heard it, the words chilling him to the bone.

“Collaborate with Hanka Robotics and be destroyed,” the disembodied voice said.

Well. _It’s a statement, that’s for sure_ , Kyungsoo thought. Clearly, he had his work cut out for him.

“And that suit, this is Hanka’s way of saying ‘pretty please’?” Kyungsoo asked. His father gave him a sharp look.

“If you want to think it so. It may be useful to you, in any case.” His father seemed to sense something amiss with Kyungsoo. He gave Kyungsoo an assessing look, and it reminded Kyungsoo that it was the first time his father had taken a real, good look at him since he entered this room.

“Am I missing something here, son?” the Commander asked.

Like a child, Kyungsoo shook his head slowly. “No… no, you’re not missing anything.”

“Good. Because I _have_ heard about your little stunt last night. Not the wisest thing you’ve done so far. I was going to talk to you about it,” his father said.

“I thought you said you were too busy,” Kyungsoo looked his father in the eye. Without waiting for a reply, he headed for the door, squaring his shoulders. “Send my Nanny Squad the details. I’m about to catch myself a motherfucker.”

*

Jongin stepped out on to the streets. The sun was shining, people were out and about. It was his day off at the kindergarten and he had the whole day ahead of him, free to do anything he wanted.

He was supposed to feel happy.

No one could stop him from doing anything. And it was what he’d worked his ass off for; a life unbarred, no rules. He answered to no one, lived the way he pleased, and was allowed to form a path of his own. Jongin had freedom.

Yet, Jongin was far from feeling free. He felt weighed down by his emotions, by his own thoughts.

 _It was so stupid of me,_ he thought to himself. Memories of last night plagued him. Jongin just couldn’t stop thinking about how Kyungsoo might be feeling about everything right now. He knew it wasn’t exactly healthy to overthink, but this was the man he’d been in love with for years. Kyungsoo’s opinion of Jongin mattered very much to him.

And it didn’t help that Kyungsoo hadn’t called all day. Jongin had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t call first, to give him time and space to think.

 _He’ll call if he wants to,_ Jongin told himself. Of course, that didn’t stop him from checking his phone every five minutes, keeping it close in his pocket. Jongin was never one to be attached to technology, but for the first time, he thought he could see the appeal.

Still, Jongin couldn’t quite focus today. He’d thought of stopping by the gym to sweat out his frustration by boxing, but his membership had just expired and he was waiting on his salary to renew it. He could jog around the city too, but then that would mean the possibility of not feeling his phone vibrating in his pocket…

God, he just needed something to do. Something to distract himself. There had to be a way to stop thinking somehow, to stop asking himself things that he couldn’t answer. It was overwhelming, like flies buzzing around his brain.

The sound of waves abruptly reached Jongin’s ears. He blinked, looking around. He’d been wandering for— hours? A glance at his watch told him he’d been meandering aimlessly since three hours ago, and he’d inadvertently reached the sea.

It was by no means paradise like the advertisements of seaside countries on television. Tokyo boasted an advanced technological industry, but it came at the cost of heavy pollution. The waters here were murky and grey, and no one in their right mind would swim there. Today, in this kind of mood, Jongin didn’t feel well.

His feet brought him right to the water’s edge. Water lapped at his shoes. Within seconds, he could feel damp soaking through his socks. _This is crazy,_ he told himself.

The water could be filled with a variety of pollutants. It wouldn’t kill him, but it could leave him with an infection or an allergic reaction. Either way, it’d be nasty. But the water promised oblivion. Silence from the world. Without a second thought, he waded into the water.

It came up to his ankles, then his knees, waist, chest. Just before salt licked over his lips, Jongin thought of Kyungsoo.

He always thought Kyungsoo would save him. The thought of him alone got him through the worst times of his life. Jongin thought he knew rock bottom. But this… This felt a thousand times worse. Clearly, he knew nothing.

*

Kyungsoo frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Baekhyun asked, glancing at him.

“Dunno, just have this feeling,” Kyungsoo shrugged, trying to shake it off. A shiver had run down his spine a second ago. It felt like a premonition, but for what, he didn’t know.

“What, you getting’ nervous? It’s nothing, you know. Just a little digging around. I doubt we’ll even need to bring out any guns,” Baekhyun said, as he tucked a small handgun into the back of his pants. Chanyeol was less subtle; he was adjusting two gun holsters on his belt.

“No, it’s not about tonight…” Kyungsoo trailed off. It was something else. _Jongin?_ His mind supplied.

Oh, no. _No, we’re not going there. Not today,_ he reminded himself. Kyungsoo needed to keep a clear head if he wanted to make it out of this mission alive. Baekhyun might be confident about all this, but Kyungsoo was cautious. Call him over-anxious, but he liked where his head was on his shoulders. Besides, he needed to be alive to be dating Jongin.

 _Maybe I should’ve called_ , Kyungsoo thought.

He’d thought about it. Countless times over the course of the day, actually. But he didn’t want to seem overly eager. Besides, he wasn’t sure about how he felt anyway. He liked Jongin enough that seeing him again was something he wouldn’t mind. But it wasn’t fair to drag Jongin back into his world, not when it caused him so much grief. And there was the small fact that he had two pairs of listening ears around him all the time…

“Well, you can figure it out later, ‘cause we need a game plan to get into that club,” Baekhyun was saying.

They were back at Kyungsoo’s apartment, having returned to stock up on firepower for their mission tonight. Kyungsoo had a stash of weapons and bullets in the guest room, which was recently vacated by Baekhyun to move into Chanyeol’s room. The stash consisted of guns in several sizes, grenades, knives, and cartons of bullets.

The mission was to look for clues at this club called Sound Business, and follow whatever trail they could find. They’d spent an hour earlier going through the details of the report on Dr. Osmond’s body, as well as searching up Taemin’s name on every database they had available to them. For now, what they lacked was information on their target, which made this mission essential. And even though this seemed like a mild enough mission, they still needed to be prepared in every way.

“I say we bust in through the doors, guns ablazin’ and tell everybody to get down,” Chanyeol said, picking up two submachine guns and making a face. Kyungsoo pressed a hand to his forehead.

“No, this isn’t a cowboy movie—”

“But the busting through the doors part is definitely a given,” Baekhyun said, “it’s a yakuza club, after all. Belongs to Block B, if I’m not mistaken. They’re not going to let us in if they know we’re EXO.”

“So we’re just gonna storm in? How long can we actually hold them off until we find what we’re looking for, though?” Kyungsoo asked.

“It’s not a fight if everyone’s dead,” Baekhyun said lightly, picking up another gun and cocking it. Kyungsoo gave him a dry look. So much for not needing guns. He tried to comfort himself in the fact that even if they came with good intentions, Block B would probably draw on them anyway. The club was in an area much like Roponggi, but more violent and hostile. Everyone and their mother would have a gun or some sort of weapon with them, and they wouldn’t be afraid to use it.

 _Am I ready for this?_ Kyungsoo asked himself. _Am I ready to kill someone in cold blood just because they’re in my way?_

Noticing the apprehension on Kyungsoo’s face, Baekhyun seemed to hesitate. He placed the gun in Kyungsoo’s hands and said, “Listen. We can get you five minutes. That’s the most we can do before they start firing at us, and by then, we’ll have to retaliate if you’re not done.”

Kyungsoo swallowed thickly. Five minutes. That was all he had to avoid carnage and death on his hands. It wasn’t much, but he was going to have to take it.

“Okay. Then gather up more men,” Kyungsoo told them. Baekhyun nodded. Chanyeol immediately went off with his phone to call up some of the men lingering in the area. EXO had safehouses all over the country just in case they needed manpower in any kind of situation. They could probably get around thirty men at the club in less than an hour.

After stocking up, Baekhyun began to load the car with extra weapons while Kyungsoo ordered a takeout dinner and shoved it all into his mouth. He probably wasn’t going to die tonight, but if he was, he wasn’t gonna go on an empty stomach.

A little while after he finished eating, Chanyeol informed him that the men Kyungsoo requested were already on the way to the club.

“Time for us to leave then,” Kyungsoo said. And with a final check to make sure they had everything, they set off in the car. Baekhyun drove, while Chanyeol sat in the back, munching on chips and sipping Pepsi.

Kyungsoo began to feel queasy when they approached the area, but it had nothing to do with food. He tried to tell himself that this was inevitable; if not today, then when? And if he tried to avoid this mission today, his father could assign him on another one that was worse. No, he had to do it.

“The men?” Kyungsoo turned to Chanyeol in the back seat when the car slowed to a stop by the sidewalk. It didn’t take long to find the place. In fact, the club was just some distance away now, its neon lights flickering to life in the night. There was a line forming outside, and bouncers were scanning each person with x-rays. Kyungsoo was just about ready to go inside too, but he needed to make sure he had his backup plan in place before anything else.

“They’re not here yet,” Chanyeol informed him, “we’ll have to wait first.”

“We can stake out in the meantime,” Baekhyun said to Kyungsoo, “see if we spot anything unusual.”

Kyungsoo nodded. It sounded like a good idea. However, the look Baekhyun sent his way told him that Baekhyun knew he was nervous. Not about the mission, of course, but about the possibility of leaving a lot of dead bodies behind by the end of tonight.

So they sat in the car, and waited. Mostly, the people waiting to get in were men just out to get buzzed and cop a feel from the dancing girls. Not a lot of them were heavily enhanced, but Chanyeol’s enhanced eye definitely noticed the weapons they sported. If not a knife, then a gun. If not a gun, then their enhancements were deadly enough on their own.

And as time went by, more men came in. Few left the place. Kyungsoo’s hope that this wouldn’t turn into a shootout diminished.

An hour later of sitting in darkness, Kyungsoo spotted his men coming from two blocks away. Two black vans parked illegally by the sidewalk, and several men got down at once, spreading out in different directions. Some of them were going to hang out by the back door of Sound Business and others would be wandering through the streets, waiting. If Chanyeol gave them the signal, then it was a bullets free-for-all.

“It’s time,” Baekhyun said, looking at Kyungsoo. His eyes were apologetic; Kyungsoo knew he’d stalled for Kyungsoo as long as he could. Now there was no turning back.

“I’ll go first,” Baekhyun offered, popping open the door. “Just follow my lead.” Shrugging, Kyungsoo patted the back of his pants one last time. His gun was there, firm and warmed from close contact with his body. _There’s no time like the present,_ Kyungsoo reminded himself.

So they got down from the car. “Switch to mind comm,” Kyungsoo said, turning on a small device and tucking it into his left ear. Baekhyun nodded, merely tapping his temple.

 _Can you hear me?_ Kyungsoo thought.

 _Good luck,_ Chanyeol’s voice echoed in his head in return.

 _Luck’s got nothing to do with this,_ Baekhyun snarled back at Chanyeol.

All set. Chanyeol caught Baekhyun’s keys and went off in the opposite direction, a machine gun hidden in his pseudo luggage bag. He was going around the back and lie in wait with a few men. They would be ready to storm the place if need be. And in the meantime, Kyungsoo and Baekhyun walked towards Sound Business, getting in line behind a couple of people.

Their turn couldn’t come fast enough; the bouncer who met Kyungsoo’s gaze had a mean scar running across his forehead and down his cheek. If his demeanour was meant to scare people with ulterior motives like Kyungsoo, it was working. Kyungsoo couldn’t help but swallow thickly when the man hovered the x-ray gun over him. He knew their guns were made from a special alloy that was undetectable under x-ray, but the bouncer could still pat them down.

“You’re not gonna cause any trouble here, are you?” the man growled. Baekhyun flashed him his best smile, making a show out of opening his jacket to show he had nothing in his pockets. The red rays from the x-ray gun outlined Baekhyun’s skeleton, and his enhanced hands flashed blue.

“No. We’re just here for the booze and the girls,” Baekhyun said. The bouncer snorted derisively, then turned off his x-ray gun. He waved them in, and two other bouncers guarding the entrance swung the metal doors open. Kyungsoo ducked his head as he entered, and spotted a staircase. Pink and blue lights lit the way.

 _We’re in,_ Baekhyun’s voice echoed. The victory in his thoughts was audible.

 _Great,_ Chanyeol’s response came almost immediately, _we found the windows in the men’s bathroom. Come around if you guys need the ammunition._

Kyungsoo could barely his thoughts as they descended the stairs. His boots clanged with every step, and by the time he reached the bottom, booming music was all he could hear. Kyungsoo took a moment to observe his surroundings.

Booths lined the walls all around. A majority of them were occupied by dangerous-looking men; from afar, Kyungsoo hadn’t been able to spot the dark tattoos that covered most of these men. In the centre of the room, cages large enough for one person to stand held girls, moving sensually to the music. The bars of the cages reached all the way up to the ceiling, and the dance floor was lit up in gold, casting everyone on it in golden light. However, the light wasn’t strong enough to illuminate the booths, probably to give the occupants a sense of privacy.

“Let’s take a look around,” Kyungsoo said to Baekhyun. He nodded in response, and they both went their separate ways. Baekhyun headed to the bar, while Kyungsoo pretended to look for an empty booth. He found one, and quickly ordered some beer.

From where he was sat, he could see Baekhyun casting looks at anyone who might be suspicious, or any hidden corners in the club. There was bound to be one or two, considering that this was a yakuza club.

 _I see a locked door directly across me, Kyungsoo,_ Baekhyun said to him. Kyungsoo glanced, and saw a dark spot directly behind a booth.

_How do you know it’s locked?_

_Because the guy sitting at the booth has keys dangling from his belt. He’s a helluva doorkeeper, flashing them like that. Guess I’ll have to snatch ‘em for myself._ Baekhyun grinned manically to himself. Kyungsoo sank into the plush leather seats, pressing beer to his mouth. God, he hoped Baekhyun wouldn’t cause a scene.

 _Will you relax? I can practically hear your anxiety all the way from here,_ Baekhyun said.

 _I wouldn’t have to worry if you weren’t putting yourself in danger like this,_ Kyungsoo retorted. But Baekhyun was already snaking his way over, holding a martini in one hand. He gave appreciative looks at girls who brushed past him, and even winked at a few.

Slowly but surely, he was making his way to the door. When he was just a few feet away, Baekhyun acted like he was looking for something. The guy at the booth immediately tensed when he noticed Baekhyun, and got up from where he sat. Half of his forehead and an eye were enhanced, and the metal stuck out from his face. He looked like a futuristic phantom of the opera.

“Hey, do you know where’s the bathroom?” Baekhyun asked, nearly shouting over the music.

“It’s over there—” the man’s gruff reply was cut off by a grunt when Baekhyun tripped over his own feet and spilled his martini all over the man’s front. He looked down with a frown, and snarled at Baekhyun menacingly.

But he never got a chance to attack. Baekhyun’s eye glinted with glee for a brief moment; letting the act drop like a curtain, Baekhyun dropped the martini glass to the ground and jerked his hand in one, smooth motion. Then he punched the man methodically; neck, solar plexus and guts. The guy keeled over, stunned. For the finish, Baekhyun activated the electrocution mode in his hand. The man jolted in Baekhyun’s arms, sinking to his knees.

 _He’s unconscious,_ Baekhyun said.

By God. Kyungsoo flicked his gaze around. Had anyone seen? None of the club-goers seemed to have noticed so far. The girls were still dancing. The bartender was still making his drinks, and no one approached Baekhyun’s corner.

 _You’re clear. Just get the keys and leave him,_ Kyungsoo told him. Whistling a tune, Baekhyun obeyed. He snatched up the keys with ease, then picked the guy up and propped him back into the booth. With his head lying face down on the table, he looked like he’d passed out for the night. Baekhyun picked up his half pint of beer and began to make his way back to Kyungsoo through the crowd.

“How the hell am I gonna get through that door?” Kyungsoo hissed at Baekhyun when he slipped into the booth.

“Um, the same way I came?” Baekhyun told him. He slid the keys over the table, and Kyungsoo slammed his hand over it. They were made of metal, the old kind of keys. Not keycards, which meant whatever was behind the door had to be important. This way, no one could hack or scan their way in unless they could get past the guard.

“The bartender’s gonna notice, for sure,” Kyungsoo replied, “not too many people go there, and if he sees us strangers hanging around…” Baekhyun frowned, thinking about it. Kyungsoo struggled to think of a way to get to the door undetected. Maybe if he crawled no one would notice? Or if he stumbled over like a drunkard—

 _We can get the club going if you want,_ Chanyeol offered.

 _No._ Kyungsoo’s brows furrowed together angrily. If Chanyeol stepped in, things were sure to get messy as hell. Baekhyun, on the other hand, shrugged. “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

“What? It’s insane—”

“If we storm this place, we can create a distraction,” Baekhyun explained, “if Chanyeol comes through the men’s bathroom and backs me up, we can act like we wanna rob the club. It’ll get you just enough time to do your snooping around, and we don’t have to kill anyone. Not right away,” Baekhyun added.

Ugh. Fuck, but Baekhyun was right. There was nothing like a distraction, and this would be a very good one.

“There must be some other way,” Kyungsoo insisted, his resolve giving in. Then, before Baekhyun could answer him, they heard Chanyeol cursing in their heads.

_Shit. Ah, shit, shit—_

_Chanyeol? Chanyeol, tell me what’s wrong,_ Baekhyun froze at once, putting a hand to his temple. Kyungsoo tried to concentrate; there was nothing to hear but the silence. He looked to the entrance, longing to climb up those stairs to see what was going on, but the mission was too crucial. They couldn’t blow their cover.

Finally, after excruciating minutes went by, Chanyeol’s voice came back on.

_Hey, guys. Sorry about that. We’re in the club, by the way._

“What?” Baekhyun said, aloud, evidently shocked. He sighed in relief for a moment, and ran his hands through his hair. “Jesus almighty, I thought…” he trailed off.

_I thought you were dead._

_It’ll take more than cops on patrol to kill me, babe._

“Enough with the romantic talk,” Kyungsoo said sharply to Kyungsoo. Baekhyun blinked at him, then seemed to sober. He cleared his throat, picking up the beer and taking deep swallows from it.

 _Everything okay on your end?_ Kyungsoo asked Chanyeol.

_It’s fine. Thank God no one’s in here right now, but someone could come in any time. Looks like we don’t have any other options._

_Stop, stop,_ Kyungsoo frowned, _let’s think about this for a second and—_

“There’s no time,” Baekhyun said. One of his hands went to the back of his pants. The next thing Kyungsoo knew, he was firing shots at the ceiling. Chaos ensued at once; screams and shouts rang out. Kyungsoo ducked instinctively, scraping his arm on the table’s edge.

“Everybody get down or I swear I’ll blow your faces off!” Baekhyun roared, his face twisted into a mask of menace. Somehow, he’d climbed onto the table and was pointing the gun at one person, then another. The dancing girls got down, but most of the men stood their ground. They seemed to assess Baekhyun, from his appearance to the way he swung his gun around with no particular focus. Kyungsoo could tell they were thinking, _crazy ass bastard._

“You got some fuckin’ guts, pretty boy, if you think you can storm this place—”

“I’ve got more than guts, man,” Baekhyun snarled. That was when Chanyeol and the men burst out from one corner, yelling at everyone to get down. Every man was armed with a gun, and they infiltrated the crowd, pointing their guns at anyone who didn’t obey right away.

 _Kyungsoo, now’s your chance. Go, Chanyeol will cover you,_ Baekhyun’s voice echoed in his head.

Kyungsoo didn’t hesitate, not wanting this to blow out of proportions. Chanyeol made good on Baekhyun’s promise, keeping a lookout with his gun while Kyungsoo scurried over to the corner Baekhyun had been at minutes ago. Kyungsoo had his gun out just in case, but he needn’t have worried. Everyone was distracted by the men, and no one bothered to give him a second glance as he tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.

“I’ll be here. If you hear gunfire, come back immediately and I’ll get you out,” Chanyeol told him in a low voice.

Kyungsoo nodded, trying out all the keys. He could hear Baekhyun talking loudly, trying to get everyone to pay attention to him. Not that that was hard; Baekhyun wasn’t hard on the eyes and he could be enigmatic when he wanted to be…

Bingo. After trying three different keys, Kyungsoo fitted the right one into the lock. He held his gun to eye level, taking quiet steps. Chanyeol glanced over his shoulder.

_Hurry._

Kyungsoo crept through the door, alert for any signs of movement. There was a dark hallway ahead of him, with closed doors lining either side of him. At first, he thought they were private rooms, perhaps, like the ones in Cuvee if a customer might want to keep a girl for the night. But he kicked down one door, and found a machine running, printing fake notes.

The men who were inside charged at him with a cry, and Kyungsoo shoved his gun into his pants at once. He held up his Better arm as a man tried to punch him, before howling in pain when the bones in his hand broke.

Kyungsoo’s other arm came up and punched him under the chin, and he sprawled on the ground unconscious just as another man came at him with a knife. Kyungsoo curled his Better arm around his neck when he was close enough, and flipped him over his back. The guy slammed into the ground, and went slack.

 _Fake money,_ Kyungsoo mused. Nothing that either Dr. Osmond or Hanka had any interest in. So he moved on to the other rooms, finding more printing machines.

Several men attacked him, but none of them were dead when Kyungsoo took them on. When the sixteenth man fell to the ground in a heap, Kyungsoo had to stop to assess his injuries. A bullet had grazed his knee, and there were cuts on his face. He was breathing heavily, the tussle pushing him to the limits but he’d live. For now.

 _Two more rooms left. So far I’ve got nothing,_ Kyungsoo informed them.

_Move forward. But hurry, we—_

Kyungsoo’s Better arm suddenly jolted. He hissed, registering pain, and looked down to find what looked like a silver token stuck to his arm. It stunned his arm, leaving Kyungsoo completely paralyzed on one side.

“What the fuck…?” he blinked, looking around. He half expected another thug to come at him, but instead, Kyungsoo only saw a shape huddled in the darkness at the end of the hallway. He squinted, struggling to get a good look. It looked like a man hunched down, but he couldn’t tell for sure…

 _This has to be Taemin,_ he thought, inadvertently broadcasting his thoughts.

_What? Taemin? He’s there? Shit, I’m coming in—_

_No!_ Kyungsoo commanded Chanyeol. _Not yet._

The figure suddenly stood. There wasn’t much Kyungsoo could discern about him; his entire appearance was cloaked in darkness and a hood. At most, Kyungsoo could tell they were almost the same height.

Then the figure tilted his head to one side, almost as if he was curious. Observing Kyungsoo, just as Kyungsoo observed him.

Kyungsoo tried to take a step towards him, but his entire left side made it impossible. He fumbled for his gun, but his arm couldn’t reach far enough to his side. _Fuck, now’s my only chance to take him down, fuck,_ Kyungsoo gritted his teeth, twisting as far as he could. Damn, what the fuck was this thing on his arm?

“Who are you?!” he yelled at the figure.

“Collaborate with Hanka Robotics and be destroyed,” came the response. _Ah, shit,_ Kyungsoo thought. This was definitely Taemin, beyond the shade of a doubt.

 _Kyungsoo, talk to me. It’s about to blow out here, and I can only do one thing at a time,_ Chanyeol’s voice spoke urgently in his head.

Deciding to risk it, Kyungsoo just reached for the silver token on his arm with his bare hand. The electricity stung, but it didn’t stun him. He grasped it and pulled, surprised to find that it was stuck to him like super glue.

 _Magnetic stunner,_ he thought darkly. Not many people used it. And it was only effective if someone had major enhancements, much like Kyungsoo. He looked back up at the figure, who still stood there impassively. _He knew I was coming._

Muffled gunfire broke out from behind Kyungsoo. His thoughts were drowned by flashes of thoughts streaming one after another from Baekhyun and Chanyeol all at once. Still, he kept his eyes trained on Taemin.

If he knew, then what was his purpose? Was he here to kill Kyungsoo?

Prying with sweaty fingers, Kyungsoo managed to dig right under the stunner. He pulled viciously, and flung it at Taemin, hoping to stun him. The silver token flashed blue as it flew, and went right through Taemin’s body. Kyungsoo’s mouth parted in surprise. It pinged against the wall, then fell to the ground, harmless. He was a hologram this whole time?

Taemin held his hands out silently, as if to say, ‘Tough luck, pal.’ Kyungsoo stared dumbly, stupefied even though he knew he was supposed to move, or run, or _something._ How had he not noticed? He’d been so caught up with trying to catch him that Kyungsoo had failed to notice that Taemin was never here in the first place…

Then, without a warning, Taemin’s figure began to disappear. He sifted away like intangible grains of sand, into nonexistence. In seconds, he was gone, and it was like he’d never been there at all.

_Chanyeol, he’s gone._

No response. They were probably busy. Kyungsoo backed out of that hallway, and began running towards the door. This was getting too creepy for his liking, and he had no time to think about why Taemin had taken the effort to project himself here.

 _Chanyeol, I’m getting out of here. What’s the situation outside?_ Kyungsoo tried again.

Still nothing. There was no time to wait for a response now; any minute, and the Block B thugs could burst into this place—

Not a moment too soon. Just as Kyungsoo was five feet away from the door, he registered beeping from somewhere behind him. He frowned but for a second, wondering where it was coming from…

The beeping began to pick up, just as Kyungsoo’s heart raced in his chest. _Bomb_.

Kyungsoo took that running leap towards the door, holding his Better arm over his head to protect himself. It felt like eternity passed before he slammed to the ground, the door bursting into pieces and searing heat flared across his back.

*

Jongin lay on the ground, unmoving. His clothes were still wet, stuck to his figure like glue. He must’ve been lying for hours; how long exactly, he couldn’t say for sure. Water pooled around him, smelling of rank and warm seawater.

 _A puddle warmed by my own body_ , Jongin thought idly. How darkly ironic. Had this been the last thing his parents felt in their last moments? Choking back fear, feeling blood pouring out of themselves? Possibly. He’d never know, would never get the chance ask, much less see them again. Jongin shut his eyes, tears threatening to spill.

He knew it was stupid to think about this. After all, it had been so long ago. He couldn’t do much then, and had no reason to think about the what if’s now. He was powerless when it happened… and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help but think he was still powerless even now.

 _Still alone_ , he thought. Still unable to move forward, or back.

There was a knock on the door. Jongin’s eyes fluttered open in alarm, and he sat up at once. He winced when his clothes squelched noisily; so much for trying to keep quiet. _Who could it be at this time of the night?_

Jongin got to his feet, keeping quiet as possible with his wet clothes. Suddenly, wallowing in a pool of seawater mixed with sand and dirt didn’t seem like a good idea anymore. Still, he knew how to protect himself in any case; Jongin wasn’t maintaining his physique to lift plastic chairs at the kindergarten. He had an idea long ago about what kind of world Kyungsoo was in.

He inched towards the door, glancing around for anything he could use as a weapon. He thought the traditional, wooden carved doll he’d gotten as a gift from a parent on his meagre dining table might do it, so he swiped it up in one hand and held it firmly. Then he reached for the doorknob, and took a look through the peephole.

What in the world…?

Jongin couldn’t swing the door open fast enough. Kyungsoo was there, leaning his metal arm on the doorframe. At first glance, he appeared bored, as if he had no idea where else to go and just happened to end up here. But he looked up at Jongin, and there was a glint in his eye. Jongin swallowed thickly.

“Kyungsoo?”

“Hey there, dangerously handsome man,” Kyungsoo said, taking his hand off the doorframe. “You gonna let me in or what?”

As he said so, Jongin took in the full sight of him, and found himself frowning. He noticed the silver briefcase in his hand first. Then he realized Kyungsoo’s clothes were charred to black, hanging like rags off his body. There were deep gouges in his metal arm, like he’d just come back from a fight. Dark blotches stained whatever was left of his clothes; Jongin knew enough to recognize blood.

“What happened to you?” he asked.

“Let me in and I’ll tell you all about it,” Kyungsoo quirked the corner of his mouth. Jongin was helpless against his smile, and stepped aside for him. Kyungsoo sauntered in easily, brushing past Jongin. The smell of smoke and gunpowder wafted after him.

“You want a… drink? Water? Soda?” Jongin offered, as he shut the door. Kyungsoo was looking around the apartment absently.

“Water, I guess,” he mumbled.

Jongin went to the fridge to get it, his five senses keenly aware of the man in his living room. Of course, he knew Kyungsoo led a dangerous life on the very edge of the law. But to see him like this, injured and worn, was like an abrupt jolt of electricity. _What is he doing here?_

He returned to the living room where Kyungsoo was sitting on his tiny two-seater sofa. Jongin placed the glass of cold water on the table, and Kyungsoo gulped it all down greedily.

When the cup was empty, he wiped at his mouth and exhaled loudly. Just what has he been up to? Jongin furrowed his eyebrows together. Not knowing was driving him mad; had he been in a car chase? Did he get into a run-in with the wrong kind of people? And why did he come here, of all places?

“What happened to _you_?” Kyungsoo’s voice broke Jongin out of his thoughts.

“W-what?” Jongin stammered, looking down at himself. Belatedly, he realized he was still sopping wet from his little dip earlier in the way. Behind him, there was a trail of water leading to the kitchen and back. His cheeks reddened.

“You been uh, swimming?” Kyungsoo inquired.

“You could say that,” Jongin laughed half-heartedly, taking off his jacket slowly. It weighed down heavily, and he dropped it on the ground unceremoniously with a plop.

“With all your clothes on, I suppose. Which is normal,” Kyungsoo cocked an eyebrow.

Jongin chuckled under his breath. “I could say the same about you. Is it normal these days, to carry something like that in public?” he said, eyeing the shiny briefcase. Kyungsoo had placed it down beside him, but had his leg draped over half of it. Knowing Kyungsoo and his tendency to want to keep things simple, whatever was inside seemed important.

“It is if you’re me,” Kyungsoo replied plainly.

Jongin shrugged. If he didn’t want to talk about it, he was in no prying mood. In truth, he was just grateful that it was Kyungsoo, and not anyone else. It eased the ache in his chest some to see Kyungsoo, sitting here on his sofa. But still; he could not have come without a reason.

So, Jongin cleared his throat and said, “Um… any particular reason you stopped by tonight?”

Kyungsoo blinked at that. He frowned, thinking. “I don’t know why I came, actually. I mean, I do,” Kyungsoo winced, “I wanted to call, but I got carried away with stuff and left you waiting for so long that a call didn’t seem right, so I, uh… came over.” Jongin nodded, though he didn’t comprehend much of what he said besides ‘I wanted to call’.

 _He wanted to call?_ Perhaps there was a slim chance here…

“From where?” Jongin asked, just to be polite. He hoped he was masking the eager smile that threatened to crack across his face.

“From a blast at Sound Business,” Kyungsoo said, matter-of-fact.

“A blast?” Jongin repeated, his smile melting away.

“Yes, why do you think my clothes are burnt?” Kyungsoo replied mildly, “I got out just in time, though. Chanyeol was waiting and pulled me out of the way…”

“But why were you in a blast?” Jongin blurted, concern etched into his features, “which sick bastard did it? And where would you be if it weren’t for Chanyeol?”

“No doubt on my back, lying on a hospital bed while doctors work on me, muttering, ‘Here comes another man who doesn’t deserve to be fixed up.’” Kyungsoo examined his nails blandly. Jongin knew he wasn’t doing that out of vanity; more of a nasty habit of biting his nails down to the quick.

“Don’t say that,” Jongin responded hastily. He got up to get another cup of water for Kyungsoo; he had little doubt Kyungsoo must’ve been parched.

“Everything turned out okay, though. Well, not really, since I didn’t catch the guy that I was supposed to nab… He was elusive as hell, but he can’t keep running forever. No man with an agenda can be on the run for very long,” Kyungsoo said thoughtfully.

“An agenda? I suppose he’s an enemy of Hanka’s?” Jongin said, bringing Kyungsoo a fresh glass of water. Kyungsoo thanked him quietly, taking a couple gulps.

“Of course, naturally. He’s been a very bad boy, y’know, this… Taemin,” Kyungsoo gritted out his name as it frustrated him. “Killed Hanka scientists, blew up that club, and almost got my entire team killed. He’s got balls, I’ll give him that, but he’s too messy. You can’t _kill_ like that. There’s just too much attention.”

“Hm. Taemin, huh?” Jongin tested out the name. It was unfamiliar; he didn’t know anyone by that name. But he could always keep an eye out for things; his job brought him very close to the edge of modern day warlords daily, and boy, they loved to gossip.

“He killed Hanka scientists?” Jongin asked.

“Ghost-hacked, actually. And he’s only targeting Hanka people, but why exactly, we don’t know,” Kyungsoo frowned, “there’s something we aren’t seeing here, though we’ll just have to figure it out on our own.”

“I can keep an ear to the ground, if you want,” Jongin offered. “See if I can pick up on anything.”

Kyungsoo cocked his head to one side. “That’s… nice. But you don’t have to get involved in this. We’ve got this covered, I think. Since we were at a Block B club, we can always chat up with some fellas from the group. Someone’s bound to know something,” he shrugged.

Jongin nodded understandingly. Of course, he understood that ‘chat’ probably meant ‘shoot first, ask questions later.’

They sat in contemplative silence for a few seconds. Jongin itched to offer Kyungsoo some clothes to wear; after all, he did just get a makeover and wasn’t short on clothes. But he held back; he wanted Kyungsoo to set the pace between them. Jongin wasn’t going to rush things or fuck this up again by scaring him off.

“So… you weren’t hurt by the blast?” Jongin eyed his clothes curiously.

Kyungsoo looked down at himself absently. “I may have nicked a shrapnel or two, but I think I’m fine,” he shrugged.

“Anyway, what have you been up to, besides swimming with the fishes, Jongin?” Kyungsoo suddenly said, switching gears. He kicked up his feet and placed them on the table; Jongin’s mom would’ve had something to say about that. Jongin barely opened his mouth before Kyungsoo said, “Are you gonna take a shower soon? I hope so. ‘Cause I’m joining you.”

“What?” Jongin almost shouted.

“You don’t want to?” Kyungsoo pouted briefly, “we both know that’s a lie.”

“No, I mean— yes, I want to, but you just came—” Jongin stuttered, panicked.

“Well, I came because I wanted to get away from everything,” Kyungsoo said shortly, “Chanyeol and Baekhyun were drilling me about Taemin, the bomb and everything I’d seen at the club. I thought my brain was gonna explode or something, there was just _so many questions_. And of course, there is that fact where I forgot about this stupid briefcase, and now my dad’s gonna bug me about why I didn’t use it. So, in short, you’re the perfect distraction and your bathroom is as good as any place for our second date.”

“I… don’t have dinner, though,” Jongin muttered, cheeks tinting pink.

Kyungsoo threw his head back and laughed. “It’s okay,” he winked, “at least we have dessert settled.”

Jongin blinked at him. “Oh?” he laughed nervously.

“Of course, I’m not just gonna nail and bail you,” Kyungsoo smirked. “Why don’t we call for dinner first?”

While Jongin dialled up McDonald’s for burgers, nuggets and lots of Sprite, Kyungsoo took the liberty to change into some of Jongin’s spare clothes. They wore the same size, which was convenient. However, the hideous, geeky prints on nearly all of Jongin’s tees was almost enough to make him forget why he came here in the first place.

 _First, seduce the hell out of him_ , Kyungsoo thought.

He felt awful for not calling. More than he should. Which was crazy, because Kyungsoo didn’t feel much on most days. And crazy feelings made him do crazy things like run over to Jongin’s apartment the second the Nanny Squad fell asleep in their room together.

And Jongin was the one who wanted him; why was he acting like a fool now?

Kyungsoo tried to tell himself that this wasn’t going to mean anything. At worst, they’d break up. At best, this could probably be an excellent way of releasing tension and just getting away from his life when it got to be too much.

 _What do I have to lose?_ he thought.

Nothing. Which was why Kyungsoo sauntered back into the living room, with Jongin’s clothes on and drank his fifth glass of water.

Man, that blast took a toll. Everyone in his team survived, but not all of them came out lucky like Kyungsoo. Some were in the hospital right now, after the search and rescue team managed to extricate them out from underneath the rubble created by the blast. Baekhyun and Chanyeol were fine too, with minor damages to their enhanced parts. Many of Block B men were down too, though no one died. A shame, in Baekhyun’s opinion.

Ironically enough, the three of them were so heavily enhanced that any injuries sustained could be easily remedied with a stop at the Hanka Towers. Nonetheless, Kyungsoo wouldn’t take his team for granted and offered to pay for their medical bills. Hanka would clean up everything else up, as they always did.

“Hey,” Jongin said, glancing up at him. “Dinner will be here in about ten minutes, and in the meantime you can… relax, whatever. Place is open to you,” he smiled. Music to Kyungsoo’s ears.

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo replied smoothly. He had an idea about how he was going to get loose tonight.

Kyungsoo went over to Jongin on the sofa. Jongin inched back with his every step, throat bobbing when Kyungsoo came close and finally clambered to hover over Jongin, his legs on either side of him. Kyungsoo traced a hand over a fine cheekbone, admiring Jongin’s features. He was a fine, fine specimen indeed. Like a breath of fresh air after a walk through a grimy factory.

“Tell me, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said in a low voice, “how did you ever get so… fit?” His hands drifted down to his shoulders, pecs and firm chest. God, he was fit as hell. Jongin had to be working out every day, and he certainly didn’t get this ripped from lifting plastic chairs at the kindergarten.

“I um,” Jongin blinked, visibly struggling, “work out. I do boxing.”

“Boxing?” Kyungsoo’s eyes glittered. “Explains a lot. But why? Were you planning on becoming one of EXO’s goons after all?” He drew an imaginary line across his sharp collarbones. Jongin shivered slightly.

“…No,” he gritted, “I wanted to be strong. Just like you told me to.” Kyungsoo frowned, not comprehending.

Jongin cautiously lifted his own hand, then touched Kyungsoo’s chin. “You said that day in the car,” he whispered, “men have to be strong. For themselves and for others.”

Oh God. Everything kept coming back to that night in the car. Kyungsoo couldn’t tell if he was more embarrassed or heartened that Jongin seemed to remember their conversation. Pursing his lips, he decided that embarrassment was secondary. For now.

“So you took up boxing?” Kyungsoo asked. Jongin noted the red colouring Kyungsoo’s cheeks. He looked mildly amused.

“There were classes for kids in Osaka. What better way to be strong?” Jongin said.

“Ah. Well, you’ve impressed me by all counts,” Kyungsoo replied distractedly, squeezing his biceps lightly. They were perfectly shaped, round and hard. Perfect to hold on to while Kyungsoo rode his dick. But there was something he wanted to investigate.

“I-I also took up cooking classes,” Jongin stuttered when Kyungsoo flipped his shirt up. Kyungsoo couldn’t help the smile on his face; physically, Jongin was like a god. His stomach was as flat as a board, his abs forming hard ridges. His tanned skin continued beneath the shirt; his skin was practically dull gold. And to think he was hiding all of this under his hideous shirts? _All the more for me to enjoy_ , Kyungsoo bit his lip.

“Did I mention I can make sushi too?” Jongin said in a loud voice when Kyungsoo’s hands reached for his pants.

“I’m not craving sushi,” Kyungsoo cocked an eyebrow at him. “Although I do like my sushi _raw_.”

Jongin swallowed thickly, unable to look at Kyungsoo. Huh. So he was being shy now? Kyungsoo clambered off his lap, sitting beside him on the sofa and folding his arms. “What’s wrong now?” he asked.

“W-wrong?” Jongin blinked at him.

“I am clearly trying to seduce you into bed tonight, and you’re telling me you can cook?” Kyungsoo said flatly. Not that he didn’t appreciate it though. Kyungsoo loved homecooked meals, could never get enough of them. Obviously, Chanyeol and Baekhyun weren’t exactly efficient in the kitchen except for opening and closing the fridge.

“I… I know what you’re doing,” Jongin said shakily. Anyone with two eyes could see what Kyungsoo was doing.

“But I thought… the way I acted last night was unforgivable. I forced my feelings on to you, and I made you feel uncomfortable. I also um… well, you know…”

“Fucked me senseless while I was half drunk?” Kyungsoo supplied. Jongin went so red he thought his head might explode. “Yes, I noticed that too. I was there, believe it or not,” Kyungsoo batted his lashes innocently.

“U-uh. I mean, yeah. I should’ve waited, I should’ve explained things to you first, but I put my desires before yours and,” Jongin shook his head, “I’ll never do it again. I’m so, so sorry, Kyungsoo. I really am.” Kyungsoo looked at him. Jongin had his head hung down in shame, the tips of his ears red as ever.

_He really takes this thing with me seriously, huh?_

“It’s fine,” Kyungsoo told him, after a moment of consideration. “You did make me uncomfortable yesterday. But it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, and if I was really pissed about it, I wouldn’t be here, Jongin.”

Jongin lifted his head, his eyes practically glimmering. “Are you… sure? You’re not mad?” he said, very softly. Kyungsoo shook his head, sticking a leg out to rest it over Jongin’s lap.

“No, I’m not. Not anymore,” Kyungsoo replied, smiling. _I couldn’t stay mad even if I wanted to,_ he thought. How could he? For all his faults, Jongin still wasn’t just another random one night stand. Jongin was a man with his heart in his hands, with a body practically designed just for Kyungsoo. _Here is a man who lives for me_ , Kyungsoo thought.

Suddenly, there were two quick knocks.

They leapt apart at once as if they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Kyungsoo cleared his throat awkwardly as he stood by the sofa, looking at the coffee table, the floor, anything but Jongin.

In the meantime, Jongin recovered quickly enough to get to his feet and go over to the door, patting his pockets for his wallet. Kyungsoo stood in the living room blankly while Jongin made small talk with the delivery man, something he had never been able to do. Jongin was awfully friendly and nice for someone who was secretly obsessed.

The door clicked shut. The smell of fries reached Kyungsoo’s nose before he even looked up.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Jongin said, the paper bags crinkling as he came back over.

Kyungsoo ate his McChicken burger ravenously at the coffee table, uncaring that Jongin was watching him like a hawk. He sipped on Sprite in between bites, but mostly he was in a euphoric state from the junk he was eating. Jongin seemed less hungry, taking small bites like he was pacing himself to chew and swallow.

“How do _you_ even keep fit?” Jongin asked, when Kyungsoo finished the burger and started on the fries. Jongin had ordered two large fries, but ate only a few. Kyungsoo ate two or three at a time, barely chewing them. They were salted perfectly, or maybe Kyungsoo was just hungry.

“Lucky me,” Kyungsoo shrugged. Except not really; he loved junk food and paid for his love dearly by running himself into the ground at the gym four times a week. His weekly attempts to escape the apartment helped, though.

“I should cook next time,” Jongin said, “it’s the second time we’re eating together, and you still haven’t tasted my spinach and meatballs fukume-ni. The kids love it every time I make it for Children’s Day.” Kyungsoo smacked his lips at Jongin.

“Trying to get all wifey for me? You already know the way to my heart,” Kyungsoo winked at Jongin. He smiled back in embarrassment, sticking a fry into his mouth.

“Once we finish the fries, you know what happens, don’t you?” Kyungsoo asked. “It’s time to rip your clothes off and show me the goods.” Jongin seemed to bristle nervously at this, chewing double time on his poor fry. The effect Kyungsoo had on him would probably never grow old; Kyungsoo never thought he’d have this much power over somebody.

“For the record, I get really bloated after fizzy drinks, and if I don’t look the way you like me to—”

“Shut up, Jongin,” Kyungsoo snapped his fingers, “you’re crazy if you think for a second that you’re ugly.”

Jongin fell silent at that, several emotions flickering over his face. Happiness, confusion, apprehension. Kyungsoo ate his fries quietly, allowing Jongin to take it at his own pace. He seemed to be deep in thought as Kyungsoo munched away, so much so that Kyungsoo thought that maybe he’d taken things a little too far.

They remained silent, but the tension… Kyungsoo could punch a hole right through it with his Good arm alone. _The way he looks at me,_ Kyungsoo thought. It was nothing he’d ever felt before.

The second Kyungsoo unwittingly picked up the last fry out of the box, Jongin tackled him.

“Mmf!” Kyungsoo nearly choked on his fry when his back connect with the ground. Jongin was already hovering over him, hands on either side of his head. Kyungsoo had to swallow before he could speak.

“A warning would’ve been nice,” he muttered under his breath, hooking a leg around Jongin’s waist to pull him downwards. Jongin made a noise of surprise, before Kyungsoo ground their hips together. He felt Jongin’s erection through his jeans, and purred with pleasure.

“It means,” Jongin ground his teeth together, “so much that you’re here, Kyungsoo.” He leaned down for a kiss; Kyungsoo let him, wrapping his arms around Jongin’s neck.

His open-mouthed kisses jumbled up any thoughts left in Kyungsoo’s head; Kyungsoo never usually bothered with making out, but the way Jongin sucked on his tongue left him decidedly altered. Kyungsoo couldn’t get closer to him, despite running his hands under his shirt and feeling his muscles rippling beneath his palms. And his slow, insistent grinding… Kyungsoo wanted to get naked, right now.

Kyungsoo shoved against Jongin’s chest, pushing him off. Jongin looked bewildered at first, his mouth swollen and his hair in a damp mess. But Kyungsoo remedied that soon enough by dragging him back onto the couch and climbing onto his lap. Jongin sucked in a quick inhale at once when Kyungsoo threw his shirt aside.

“You like?” Kyungsoo purred. Jongin swallowed; his cock gave a twitch at Kyungsoo’s inner thigh. Jongin did like.

“But I think you’ll like this more…” Kyungsoo began to unbutton his pants. Jongin began to tremble beneath him in anticipation, his hands curling into fists by his sides. Kyungsoo’s pants slipped down his waist when it came undone, pooling at his knees and on Jongin’s lap.

“Can I?” Jongin looked up at him, his hands reaching for Kyungsoo. He nodded, and let Jongin pull down his boxers. His cock sprang forth at once, easing the pressure Kyungsoo felt coiling in his gut. Jongin stared blatantly; if taking off his shirt had left Jongin breathless, then his cock left Jongin awed.

“Your turn,” Kyungsoo drawled, undoing the button at Jongin’s jeans. “Been waiting to see this,” he licked his lips deliberately, watching the way Jongin’s breath hitched in his throat.

“I’m going to ride your cock tonight, Jongin, till the both of us won’t remember our names,” Kyungsoo said, just to spur him on. Jongin clearly liked the dirty talk, because he barely shimmied out of his jeans before his cock jutted out over the waistband of his boxers.

“Well, hello there,” Kyungsoo smiled, ripping the rest of his boxers off with his Better arm. By the gods; Jongin had a body made for sex. Kyungsoo reminded himself that they’d done this before, but seeing Jongin with sober eyes under the lights was truly a sight to behold.

He was tan all over, gorgeously so. His shirt had ridden up to around his underarms, leaving his chest and abs exposed. His happy trail led down to a patch of dark hair, then to his cock, the head engorged and red. _A body made just for me._ His cock was twitching away, and without thinking, Kyungsoo grabbed it. Jongin hissed under his breath, his hips bucking upwards when Kyungsoo flicked the head with his thumb.

“You’re… huge,” Kyungsoo said. And impossibly hard, warm in Kyungsoo’s hand. Kyungsoo couldn’t believe he’d had this in him last night, but fuck, he wanted it in him again tonight.

“You’ll have to help me with this, Jongin, or else you’ll split me into two,” Kyungsoo murmured, taking Jongin’s hand and placing it at his entrance. Jongin pressed in at once, and Kyungsoo rose up on his knees involuntarily, gasping at the sensation.

“Lube,” Jongin gritted. Wasn’t a question. Kyungsoo released his cock momentarily to fumble through his pockets, tossing him a small bottle. Jongin popped the cover open and poured the contents all over his hand, returning it to where it was seconds ago. This time, Jongin’s touch was cold, probing but smooth. Kyungsoo rewarded him by jerking him off roughly.

“F-fuck,” Jongin cursed under his breath, sweat glistening across his forehead.

“Put your fingers in,” Kyungsoo breathed, “want to feel you inside me.” Jongin obeyed, fitting in two fingers at once. Kyungsoo groaned, sharp slices of pleasure shooting through his entire body. Jongin’s riveted gaze upon him was no help either; Kyungsoo had never felt this exposed before.

“You’re tight,” Jongin whispered, scissoring his fingers in and out.

“And you’re… going too slow,” Kyungsoo choked out, tightening his grip around Jongin’s cock greedily. As if the pleasure wasn’t enough, Jongin’s other hand pinched one of his nipples mercilessly, and Kyungsoo shuddered. His cock gave a jerk, and Jongin reached for it.

“No!” Kyungsoo smacked his hand away. “I won’t last,” Kyungsoo said shakily. Jongin nodded, fitting a third finger into Kyungsoo at the same time while he pulled Kyungsoo down for another filthy kiss. He kissed Kyungsoo like nothing else mattered, as if this was all he would ever need. The taste of him… If Kyungsoo wasn’t careful, Jongin was going to make a slave out of him.

“Put it in,” he told Jongin in his ear. Kyungsoo began to pant as he repositioned himself, and watched Jongin hold his cock in place. Kyungsoo had his hands on the wall above Jongin’s head, and his entire body practically quivered when he lowered himself upon Jongin’s cock.

The first inch went in, and Jongin swore colourfully.

Kyungsoo could already feel his size, and he wasn’t even all the way in yet. He gritted his teeth, feeling a twinge of pain. Nonetheless, it didn’t stop him from sinking down slowly, ignoring Jongin’s protests.

“W-wait, Kyungsoo, you’ll hurt yourself—” the rest of his sentences was cut off when Kyungsoo was seated upon Jongin’s lap, his cock stretching him wide. He could feel it, pulsing and hot inside of him. It made Kyungsoo feel delirious, heady with lust. God, his head was spinning… The pain was worth it.

“Does this feel good?” Kyungsoo asked. His ears felt like they’d been stuffed with cotton. Jongin nodded once, his nails digging into Kyungsoo’s hips. But Kyungsoo hardly felt anything; all he could feel was Jongin’s cock pulsing inside of him, raring to go.

He lifted himself upwards slightly, feeling Jongin’s cock slip out. Kyungsoo left it in halfway, and sank back down again. The feeling of fullness returned, and a flare of pleasure spiked. Jongin’s head thunked back on the wall, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Kyungsoo repeated the process, moving up and down. He did it till his thighs burned, then Jongin began moving his hips as well, thrust for thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, so familiar and yet… so new to Kyungsoo. It was like discovering sex all over again, and containing his shouts of pleasure was all he could do.

Kyungsoo dug gouges into the cement wall as the pressure built, coiling deep. He dug his fingers into Jongin’s hair once again, holding onto him desperately just as his body felt like it was about to hurtle into space.

“Faster, Jongin, I’m… close,” he panted, clenching down on his cock. Jongin gave a hoarse yell, his back arching.

“I-I can’t hold back,” Jongin stuttered, his hips bucking uncontrollably. Kyungsoo met his brutal thrusts with his own, his head leaning down to lean on Jongin’s shoulder. So close to release. Jongin’s hands reached around him to draw his ass closer, sliding his cock that much deeper.

Kyungsoo’s cock spurted white between them, just as he caught sight of Jongin’s brows furrowing together, his expression lost. It was unbearably sexy to see Jongin like that, and he threw his head back in abandon, fucking himself to completion. All Kyungsoo could think was how mind-blowing this felt compared to their first night together.

-

“Ah, Jesus,” Kyungsoo muttered to himself. Jongin shifted beside him, smelling of body soap. His lips trailed a track lightly from Kyungsoo’s neck to his shoulder.

“What?” Jongin murmured.

They were lying in bed together, tucked underneath the covers. Kyungsoo was warm, well-fucked and clean after their quick shower. And it was strange to feel this way. Kyungsoo didn’t think he’d ever experienced such a sense of contentment or peace since he was a child.

“Nothing,” Kyungsoo shook his head, curling deeper to feel Jongin’s warmth. Jongin had a leg flung carelessly over his, and an arm around Kyungsoo’s waist. His other arm served as Kyungsoo’s pillow, which was a nice change from leaning on his own, hard, unforgiving metal arm. “I just remembered that I didn’t come here to cuddle,” Kyungsoo chuckled.

Jongin gave a smile, the one that Kyungsoo liked. His eyes curled upwards, and his lips quirked deliciously.

“Then what did you come for? Dinner and sex?” Jongin replied.

“Every man’s dream,” Kyungsoo sighed. Jongin’s chest rumbled with silent laughter, and he pressed another kiss to Kyungsoo’s nape. But in all honesty, perhaps a part of Kyungsoo had come for this. For acceptance, for someone to return to after a close brush with death. To know what it felt like to matter to somebody.

“I don’t actually know why I’m here,” Kyungsoo murmured, yawning. “I know I told you that I came for sex, but… it’s more than that,” he glanced over his shoulder. Jongin was listening with his head cocked curiously to one side. Kyungsoo twisted around to face him, a hand curling under Jongin’s chin.

“I wanted to know, I guess, if you still wanted me even after knowing that I might come to you one day after killing somebody. After all, I could be killing someone’s dad or mother, or brother…” he looked Jongin in the eye. Jongin held his gaze.

“It wasn’t you that day,” Jongin said softly. “You weren’t the one who killed my parents.”

“But my father did,” Kyungsoo looked away, “not so much as in action, but by order.”

Jongin swallowed thickly. “True. But it gave me you. A chance with you, even if it’d taken years.”

“And you think you’ll still want this? Even if I take over my father’s place one day in EXO?” Kyungsoo asked. Jongin hesitated.

“I don’t know. I’d always want you, Kyungsoo, but becoming the Commander means putting your life in danger. A life without you feels like a life with no sun,” Jongin swallowed. “That’s what you’d put me through.”

Kyungsoo wanted to shake him by the shoulders. _I’m not the man you think I am,_ he wanted to shout.

“Did you ever think that maybe… maybe I’m not worthy of you?” Kyungsoo asked, keeping his eyes focused on Jongin’s shoulder. “That maybe I’m just a criminal and you’re better off trying to woo a girl instead?”

“No, of course not,” Jongin denied vehemently, “do you think I’m weak, Kyungsoo? Do you think I’m a miserable orphan with no decent job?” He took Kyungsoo completely off guard, but Kyungsoo shook his head. No, Jongin wasn’t weak at all. He’d somehow survived the death of his parents, had held on to life when most children would’ve lost their way a long time ago. And now he had a hand in shaping the future generation’s minds, no doubt teaching them good things like morals and whatnot.

Kyungsoo, on the other hand, was just following the path his father had set for him years ago.

“You’re honestly amazing, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said, meeting his heated gaze.

“And you have no reason to think you’re unworthy in any way,” Jongin countered, “you were— and still are my hero. As you will be to EXO. But I’ll always worry for you, because enhancements won’t make you infallible,” Jongin softened his tone.

“You’re such a sap,” Kyungsoo nuzzled Jongin’s chest so he wouldn’t see him blushing. How quaint. The kindergarten teacher was making the Major blush. Baekhyun and Chanyeol would have a field day with this if they ever found out.

“Among other things,” Jongin kissed his head gently. He caressed Kyungsoo’s back soothingly.

“It’s still strange to have you here with me,” he murmured. Kyungsoo peeked up at him, noting his look of wonder. “Weird to have to comfort me, I suppose?” Kyungsoo asked. Jongin nodded.

“I always envisioned this, but… to have it is another matter entirely. You probably think it’s strange as well. After all, I was no better than a stalker for your entire life.”

“But it’s important to you,” Kyungsoo whispered, “I don’t know anyone else who could’ve gone through what you did and still come out functional. Maybe it’s weird, but… you’re here now.” _With me,_ Kyungsoo thought. So much for keeping things simple, no strings attached.

Whatever this was between them? Kyungsoo wanted it. More than he would ever let on to anyone.

He let Jongin touch him for as long as he wanted. Jongin seemed to like Kyungsoo’s skin very much, caressing his arm up and down in a slow, deliberate manner. Kyungsoo caught himself dozing off several times, lulled by Jongin’s scent. A part of Kyungsoo kept warning him that he was going to give up more than he thought, but right now, he couldn’t think of a reason why.

In Jongin’s arms, Kyungsoo felt nothing but… safe. He eventually gave in to the lethargy that swept over him, and fell asleep.


	3. living in a broken home alone (sixteen weeks since you've been gone)

_‘Hey. You left your briefcase here again last night. It’s under the bed if you wanna come back and get it :)_ _’_

Kyungsoo read the text and smiled to himself. He forgot a number of things this morning, but he didn’t forget the goodbye kiss he got from Jongin just before he left.

“Play nice,” he’d murmured, palming Kyungsoo’s ass with both hands.

“It’s not fun if it isn’t rough,” Kyungsoo had shot back at him. Then he had to pull himself away from Jongin, leaving the apartment to head to Hanka Towers.

It had been a fortnight since Jongin and Kyungsoo officially starting seeing each other. It didn’t feel like two weeks though, not when Kyungsoo was going over to his place every night for dinner and letting Jongin fuck him on every possible surface in the apartment. So far, the Nanny Squad knew he was going out every night, but they didn’t know where or with whom, though they kept quiet about it since Kyungsoo was showing up diligently every morning to keep them off his backs.

It was an uneasy truce, but it suited Kyungsoo fine. So long as they left it alone, he would do them a favour by letting them drive him to the Hanka Towers every day to continue their investigations with the Hanka scientists’ murders. And so far, Kyungsoo’s father noticed nothing.  

“You’re smiling again,” Baekhyun remarked from the driver’s seat, “stop it, it’s creepy.”

“Must be a really hot piece,” Chanyeol drawled beside him, winking. Kyungsoo threw them a scowl, hiding his smile. Yes, they were keeping his illicit trips out of his apartments a secret but that didn’t stop them from thinking Kyungsoo was getting laid every night. (He was, but surely, this wasn’t any of their business?)

“We’ll find out either way, you know,” Baekhyun said, “one day, you’re gonna get caught en flagrante with your lil’ secret lover. Might as well just tell us.”

“It’s for me to know and for you to never find out,” Kyungsoo said easily. Kyungsoo would give up his Better arm before he let anyone in EXO find out he was sleeping with Jongin. Besides the obvious dangers Jongin would be exposed to, Kyungsoo also didn’t want the entire underbelly of Japan ogling Jongin. Because he _was_ a hot piece, one that Kyungsoo wasn’t about to give up easily.

“Fine. At least tell me if your lover’s been inspirin’ you these days about where to find Taemin,” Baekhyun huffed. Unfortunately, no. Another murder had occurred just two nights ago, in fact; a Dr. Oulett had been killed in a car crash. A garbage truck had collided into her vehicle, crushing her completely. Her driver and assistant who were involved in the accident as well were now in the hospital, barely clinging to life.

However, Kyungsoo had hopes about this case. For one, the murder had been committed using men instead of service robots, because Dr. Oulett didn’t own any service robots. That meant robots couldn’t be hijacked to ghost-hack her, forcing Taemin to deviate from his usual methods.

Section 9 suspected the two garbage truck drivers who had fled the scene where ghost-hacked or remotely controlled somehow by Taemin, and were now working with the police to track them down. As of this morning, they were close to nabbing one of the drivers, and would leave the interrogation to EXO. Kyungsoo was expected to be ready at Hanka Towers; they would have only a day to get whatever information the driver might have before handing him over the police tomorrow.

“There has to be a link, somehow. He’s targeting scientists, not engineers or even Section 9,” Kyungsoo said, chewing his lower lip. Did he have some kind of vendetta against the scientists? All of them or just the ones he killed? Was there a pattern to the chaos?

“If there is a link, I honestly don’t see it,” Chanyeol said, “he’s a psychopath, and it’ll only drive all of us crazy to try and understand him.”

 _But I have to,_ Kyungsoo thought. Not just because it was duty, but because Taemin was a killer. What would happen if there were no more scientists left to kill? Then he’d target Hanka next, and if he ever found out the deep ties between Hanka and EXO, he could attempt to take out everyone.

That could include Jongin. Kyungsoo knew it was an irrational fear, but it wasn’t one he would overlook easily.

“Don’t blame him, though,” Baekhyun suddenly said from the front, stopping at a red light. “Who knows what them scientists really do with the bodies sometimes,” he shuddered lightly. At that, a lightbulb went off in Kyungsoo’s head.

 _Shit_ , he thought. What if… what if Taemin really had it in for those scientists specifically? Perhaps they’d killed a family member or a lover in the name of science. With some well-placed connections, he could’ve gotten the names of the scientists. Or hell, since he already knew how to ghost-hack, who was to stop him from hacking right into Hanka’s mainframe?

The idea stayed with him all the way to the Towers, making more and more sense when he thought about it. He already had Taemin’s motive, if this was true. Now he just needed to know who might be next.

“Get Jongdae,” Kyungsoo said, when they were in the building. Baekhyun gave him a look, but did as he was bade to do anyway. Chanyeol, in the meantime, led Kyungsoo to the elevator, and they exited on the fiftieth floor.

The entire floor had been cleared out for them to use as a temporary meeting place and an office. Hanka’s director, Dr. Cutter, was getting increasingly anxious about the killings and wanted it solved as soon as possible. Thus, he’d provided with whatever Kyungsoo and his team might need while they liaised with Section 9, and the occasional Hanka scientist with evidence. Weapons, machines to fix up any mangled enhanced parts were now at their disposal.

Kyungsoo went to the nearest computer and logged in to Hanka’s mainframe. “Chanyeol, can you get me the list of all the victims so far?” he said distractedly while he typed.

Chanyeol pulled up the list on a tablet, the names glowing at Kyungsoo. “What’re you looking for?” he asked.

“Is there any way to cross search a project that all of these scientists have worked on?” Kyungsoo said. If there was some kind of record, then maybe he could gleam into Taemin’s reasoning, find out why he was so hellbent on killing scientists.

“There’s like eleven scientists on the list. Twelve, if you add Oulett. Isn’t that a little far-fetched?” Chanyeol said, “I don’t think there’s a project out there that requires _this_ many geniuses…”

Doubt niggled at Kyungsoo. But what did he have to lose? He needed to know this meant nothing before he gave up on it. “Maybe not, but is there a way to search for it in the archives anyway?” he insisted.

“Oh. Sure,” Chanyeol shrugged, dropping into a chair and going to the computer. He tapped the screen here and there, typing in a few commands. Then a bar popped up, and seconds later, a solitary file appeared on the screen.

“Huh. Looks like they did work on a project together. Project 2571,” Chanyeol said, tapping on it. A digital Rubix cube appeared; it was a heavily encrypted file. Whatever it was seemed important. Especially when Kyungsoo typed in a password that was given to him by Cutter himself that would bypass all encryptions, and a window popped up.

_ACCESS DENIED._

“Access denied?” Chanyeol repeated incredulously. Kyungsoo moved to let Chanyeol type it in, just in case there was a typo. The Rubix cube reappeared, rearranging itself in a million ways. Nothing.

“I thought we had access to all files,” Kyungsoo said, lifting a brow. Chanyeol shrugged helplessly. “Thought so too. Looks like we don’t, apparently.”

Kyungsoo was immediately suspicious. What were the odds that the one project all of these scientists worked on wasn’t available to him? Obviously, Kyungsoo wasn’t about to leak Hanka’s secrets anytime soon. He valued his life and money too much to do that, and Hanka knew that. _Unless Project 2571 was something dark_ , Kyungsoo thought. Something that would make working with the yakuza look mild. 

“Leave it, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo said, waving a hand. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t able to read it. As long as he knew that these scientists were involved in this Project 2571, whatever it was, then it was enough for now. He’d take it up to Cutter.

“No, wait, I can try something at least,” Chanyeol argued, fingers flying across the screen. Kyungsoo kept silent to let him concentrate. Three minutes later, Chanyeol was triumphant.

“Okay, so I still don’t know what’s in that file, but I do know that it’ll require Dr. Cutter’s approval to access it. Either by thumbprint or voice recognition will work. But if it needs that kind of top security…” he trailed off. Their thoughts were one and the same. Kyungsoo had been right all along; there _was_ a pattern.

“Maybe Jongdae will know a thing or two?” Kyungsoo said. Chanyeol fingered the gun holster at his waist almost absently. “Perhaps he will,” he said.

So they sat back to wait, nursing hot cups of instant coffee to pass the time. Chanyeol found butter cookies and dug into them, chewing noisily. Kyungsoo was slurping down the last drops of his drink when Baekhyun and Jongdae finally came through the elevator.

“Hey, Major,” Jongdae called breathlessly, jogging over. “I was held up in a meeting just now. Hanka is tightening security around and you wouldn’t believe the procedures I have to go through just to go on my lunch break now,” he rolled his eyes.

“At least it shows that Hanka cares,” Kyungsoo shrugged, “now sit, Jongdae. I’ve done a little digging and I’ve… some questions I’d like you to answer.”

“Me?” Jongdae pointed at himself. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting this. He sat down anyway, facing Kyungsoo. Baekhyun offered to make more coffee, leaving them alone. But Kyungsoo was willing to bet Baekhyun and Chanyeol were on mind comms already so he could eavesdrop as well.

“What is it, then? Something about Taemin?” he asked, folding his hands into his lap.

Kyungsoo cleared his throat. “Yeah, but not exactly Taemin. See, I cross-referenced the names of the scientists in the system just to see what might come up.” Jongdae evinced no reaction, waiting for Kyungsoo to continue.

“And what came up was a single project, heavily encrypted and only accessible by Cutter himself,” Kyungsoo chose his words carefully. “What do you know… about Project 2571?”

Jongdae paled. He stiffened in his seat at once, and his gaze flickered across the room. Oh, Kyungsoo had hit a nerve. Big time. Project 2571 was starting to look like one of Hanka’s many dirty secrets. But how deep had they buried this into the ground?

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“But you do know it,” Kyungsoo said, in a gentle voice.  

Jongdae took a deep breath, clearing his throat. His hands fluttered across his shirt, his tie as if to reassert himself. “I— Yes, I do. But really, all the Hanka scientists know of it,” he muttered quietly.

“Then why don’t you start telling me what it is? Since all scientists know about it,” Kyungsoo said. Jongdae shook his head, putting out his hands.

“No, no, no, I’ve signed an NDA for this, I’m not supposed to talk about this—”

“Damn, must be helluva secret,” Chanyeol whistled. “You probably get paid a lot to keep your mouth shut,” he grinned, “sure it’s worth your life?”

Conflict warred clearly upon Jongdae’s face. Kyungsoo kept his face purposefully blank. Even though this was necessary, he liked Jongdae and didn’t want to push him too far. Still, he didn’t say anything when Chanyeol removed the gun holster from around his belt and placed it on the table. He cocked an eyebrow when Jongdae turned his frightful face at him.

“I’m not supposed to talk about this,” Jongdae repeated bleakly. Kyungsoo propped up his leg on one knee.

“Then don’t. Show me,” Kyungsoo gestured at the computer.

Jongdae’s head dropped into his hands. “I… I could lose my job for this,” he mumbled.

“You could lose your life if you don’t start talking,” Chanyeol reminded him. At that, Jongdae sat up straight, eyes trained on the gun Chanyeol had left on the table. Apparently, it was enough.

“…Project 2571,” he began shakily, wringing his hands together, “is the result of a collaboration with our government’s military and Hanka Robotics. It’s said that they’re building a weapon, something that will ultimately protect our country for the greater good.” Kyungsoo rolled his eyes at that. He, of all people, knew that weapons weren’t necessarily for protection. Most times, weapons were made just solely to hurt people, and nothing more.

“What kind of weapon? A nuclear bomb?” Chanyeol asked. Jongdae shook his head.

“No, it’s something… smaller. Something more subtle. And it starts at a cerebral level, if you will,” Jongdae swallowed, glancing around the room once again. Kyungsoo noted that he was eyeing the cameras, no doubt noting the devices that could possibly end his career. But Kyungsoo was too close to the truth to think about that right now.

“Cerebral?” Kyungsoo repeated, “you’re talking about the brain?”

“Yes,” Jongdae said, expression grim, “y’see, Project 2571 is the world’s first attempt at cerebral salvage.”

Kyungsoo felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His hand gripped the armrest of the chair he was sitting on. Suddenly, he felt very cold inside.

“Cerebral salvage?” Baekhyun’s voice repeated. Everyone turned; he had emerged from the pantry with a cup in his hand. It loosened from his grip, and dropped with a muffled noise on the thin-carpeted floor. Coffee spilled out and left a large, dark stain on the carpet. Kyungsoo had to look away.

“The bodies,” Kyungsoo said, voice shaking, “the bodies that Hanka always wanted alive. This… this is what they’re for, isn’t it?”

What else could they have been for? No wonder Hanka needed so many victims. They were doing much more than just trying to advance in the cybernetic field. Even for a lay man like Kyungsoo, he knew what cerebral salvage meant.

Some doctor a few years back had written a paper, discussing the hypothetical benefits of cerebral salvage. It had become wildly popular, and divided the world between supporting the doctor’s thoughts and condemning it. He had proposed that it was possible to remove someone’s brain and put it into a new, robotic shell so that mankind’s mind would go on but in a new, near invincible body. _No sickness_ , he’d written. No aging. Improved reflexes and stamina. And the ultimate goal; immortality.

But those things wouldn’t be possible without making some mistakes along the way. That meant a whole lot of brains, fresh from a person’s skull, to be used and tinkered with like some kind of sick, biology experiment. Kyungsoo felt the blood drain away from his face.

Jongdae nodded grimly.

“I… I don’t know the details. But I do know that this project began a long time ago. And nothing’s ever come out of it, which means it’s been a failure so far.”

“Which means we’ve been sending countless human guinea pigs to Hanka for years and years,” Kyungsoo grunted. No matter how much those people might’ve deserved it, Kyungsoo would never have allowed his father to force him to become Major if he’d known that he was damning people to become nothing more but science fodder.

“For what it’s worth,” Jongdae shrugged helplessly, “you weren’t supposed to know. No one did. Except for this… Taemin. He knows something about Project 2571. Already, he’s killed nearly half the team.”

“Let him kill the rest then,” Baekhyun said, disgusted. He’d moved away from the mess he’d made, and was standing by the glass wall, looking out unto the city. His stance was stiff, rigid. Knowing him, Kyungsoo could tell he was furious at being used.

Jongdae shook his head, waving his hands. “You know Hanka won’t let Taemin do that. They’ll deploy every defence they have. EXO, Section 9, the military, anything to protect Project 2571.”

“Why?” Kyungsoo demanded, “Why cerebral salvage? And what are those scientists _thinking_? Is it really worth having a new shell when it was made on the deaths of so many others?” Jongdae paled, shaking in his seat.

“That’s the exact question on everyone’s minds. Scientifically, it’d be a miracle if Project 2571 was a success. Ethically, it’s the vilest act mankind can commit upon themselves.”

 _And Hanka thought they could drag me along in this_ , Kyungsoo ground his teeth. Cutter had thought to bring EXO into this, like this was a glorious adventure to go down in history.

 _God_ , Kyungsoo ran his hand through his hair. He had known somehow, that he’d regret in involving himself with Hanka. And now he knew why.

 _How many of those people were really Hanka’s enemies anyway?_ he thought. For all he knew, he could’ve brought in dozens, hundreds of innocent people to their deaths. How many lives had he taken for Hanka? And how many more did they expect before they were satisfied?

Jongdae stood up from his seat, inching over to Kyungsoo. He reached out a hesitant hand. “Listen, Kyungsoo—” he swallowed, “I know this… this is difficult to hear. But you can’t act out, you can’t let Cutter know that you know or he’ll kill you.”

“Funny, because I was contemplating killing him myself,” Kyungsoo growled.

Jongdae started shaking his head before he was even done talking, daring to lay a hand on Kyungsoo when he got up. Kyungsoo swatted his hand away warningly, but Jongdae preserved, even when Kyungsoo caught sight of a vein at his neck, pulsing frantically. He was as much afraid as Kyungsoo was murderous.

“Kyungsoo, stop this for a minute. You know what Hanka is like. Even if you managed to kill Cutter, the project won’t come to a halt. Too many people are invested in it, too many powerful people want it to succeed and they’ll do whatever it takes to make Project 2571 a reality.”

“So what do you expect me to do?” Kyungsoo yelled at him. “Sit down and take orders? Pretend I don’t know what those sick scientists are gonna do to the next guy I bring in?!”

Jongdae flinched. “That’s… a crude way to put it. But yes,” his jaw tightened, “it’s the only way to stay alive. And you know it, Kyungsoo. I don’t have to tell you this.” He looked away. Kyungsoo didn’t bother to hide his stifle of disgust.

But it was true. Kyungsoo did know Hanka. For the first time in years, he suddenly felt the weight of his Better arm like a sack of useless rocks.

Jongdae left after that. Kyungsoo felt unsettled, wanted to leave but he knew he had to stay to maintain appearances. Half of him wanted to go right up to Cutter’s office and demand to know what the fuck was going on, while the other half wanted to stay put because they still needed to catch that motherfucker, Taemin. As long as he was still out on the streets, no one involved with Hanka was safe.

And though it pained Kyungsoo because he’d still end up protecting Hanka anyway, he dropped into a seat and waited impatiently for news. The only good thing that could possibly happen now was if they caught the garbage truck drivers.

Two hours went by. Chanyeol tried to hack into Hanka’s system, but it was useless. They had the best IT guys, and their firewall was uncrackable because it kept rewriting itself. Baekhyun just sat beside Chanyeol, sullen. He looked as helpless and betrayed as Kyungsoo felt.

However, Kyungsoo’s head popped up when he heard the phone ring. Baekhyun answered it on the second ring. He didn’t say much, just nodded to himself and said something too soft for Kyungsoo to catch. When he hung up, his face was grim.

“They got him. The garbage driver.”

-

The interrogation room, also known as the Cube, was an unnerving place to be in. And that was saying a lot, for someone who was always on the right side of an interrogation.

Kyungsoo eyed the garbage driver curiously, taking in his haggard appearance, and the dazed look in his eyes. He kept glancing around the cube, which no doubt made him more nervous than he already was. But there wasn’t much to look at, in truth; the Cube was a small ten by ten room, its four walls made of one-sided mirrors. At the centre of the room, an expandable tube housing wires were attached to the locking device around his neck to keep tabs on his heart rate and brain waves, for interrogation purposes.

But it was also tough enough that he wouldn’t be able to move very far; not that there was much chance for him to escape. He’d been strapped into a garish, dirty strait jacket before being sent here, leaving him defenceless.

“W-what am I doing here?” he asked, licking his dry lips nervously. He had some cuts on his face; Chanyeol had informed Kyungsoo that he’d put up a fight when they finally caught up to him.

“To be questioned,” Kyungsoo answered smoothly, “you’ve been arrested for the murder of Dr. Oulett.”

He paled visibly. “I— Who is Dr. Oulett? I-I didn’t kill anybody—”

“Street cameras and a thousand videos uploaded to social media by pedestrians say otherwise,” Kyungsoo cut him off. “You slammed into Dr. Oulett’s car three days ago at a junction in Shibuya. As if doing this in front of an audience wasn’t enough, you opened fire with military grade submachine guns.”

“What? I don’t k-know what you’re saying, you’ve got the wrong guy—”

Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes. How could he not know about the shit show he put on? The crash alone had killed Dr. Oulett, but he and the second driver had riddled her car with bullet holes. It was clear that they had to be sure they finished the job. And yet, Section 9 dragged his sorry ass in and found that he was delirious, confused that a dozen men had been sent to arrest him.

Apparently, he’d had no idea what he’d done, and wasn’t even aware that he had been on the run for three days already. It was almost like his mind had been turned off in those three days, and only came back on just in time to be brought in.

Under normal circumstances, Kyungsoo wouldn’t believe that this man was telling the truth. But the fear in his eyes, his constant shivering suggested that he was indeed telling the truth. Or he thought he was, anyway. Except it couldn’t be possible.

“Then tell us who we do have.”

“I…” he swallowed when Kyungsoo gave him a hard look. “My name is Lee Cunningham,” he answered. Kyungsoo sensed he was going to have to break this man’s resolve before he was going to give up any kind of useful information.

“Where did you get the weapons?” Kyungsoo pressed, even though he already guessed at Cunningham’s answer.

Another visible swallow. “I don’t know.”

“Who loaded the guns?”

“I-I don’t know! I don’t know about any weapons, okay, I already told them, I was picking up my daughter. She takes violin lessons.”

At that, Kyungsoo cocked his head. Another impossible dead end. Section 9 had raided his apartment, found nothing there except for trash and old furniture. A check at his records said that he’d been living in the same place for ten years alone and his neighbours had confirmed this. There was no daughter, no wife. He had no known family members to speak of.

Kyungsoo dug out a hologram card from his back pocket, used specifically for interrogation and interviews to display pictures or videos. He had intended to use it to scare Cunningham with images of Dr. Oulett’s savaged, unrecognizable body but perhaps something else could show Kyungsoo just how confused and delusional this man was…

“This your daughter?” Kyungsoo asked, holding up the hologram card. It displayed Cunningham’s ID photo. He peered at it for a moment, then his entire demeanour changed. He relaxed slightly, his eyes brightening.

“Yeah… yeah, that’s her. Ain’t she an angel?” a nervous laugh escaped his lips. He kept looking to Kyungsoo for a reaction, but Kyungsoo remain passive.

 _This guy’s a goner,_ he thought. Something was wrong, and he was their only lead to Taemin.

“This is your daughter?” he asked again. The man nodded.

“Yeah. Do you… have kids?” Cunningham asked, perhaps striving for pity. Unfortunately for him, Kyungsoo had neither kids nor pity. He tucked the hologram card away into his pocket again.

“Where do you live?” Kyungsoo asked. He stepped closer to Cunningham, who immediately backed up. Kyungsoo didn’t stop, aiming for intimidation. It worked, because Cunningham started to pace around the cube in a slow circle.

“I— um. I don’t know, I can’t remember. It’s a tall place— is it a tall place? It’s a tall building, right?” he started to ramble. Another show of amnesia, except this time he looked even more nervous than before. Cunningham probably knew that he was starting to look more suspicious by the minute. But despite this, Kyungsoo saw no information forthcoming.

“You don’t have a child,” Kyungsoo stated, keeping his voice cold and steady. Cunningham ceased his pacing, stilling. The words seemed to sink in like a rock in water.

“What?” his voice strained. Visible pain was etched on his grimy features.

“You don’t have a wife,” Kyungsoo continued, “you live alone. It’s just you.”

“No…”

“We went to your apartment, there’s nobody there.” Cunningham moaned, moving restlessly like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’ve lived there for ten years by yourself,” Kyungsoo spat, “you’re just lying—”

“No!” Cunningham abruptly shouted. “I’m not lying!” Spittle flew from his mouth. “I didn’t kill anyone! Why do you keep doing this to me?!” he shouted. Kyungsoo looked at him in distaste. The desperation in his voice was clear. Cunningham was insisting, again and again that he didn’t do anything but Kyungsoo was tempted to shout right back at him.

 _How? How can he not know?_ Kyungsoo thought.

“Please, I didn’t do anything! Why do you keep saying this to me!” Cunningham continued to shout. Kyungsoo turned on one foot, facing one of the walls.

“Cube disconnect,” Kyungsoo said.

Immediately, the holographic version of himself inside the Cube began to disappear. Kyungsoo stood on the other side of the mirror, continuing to observe Cunningham. He was displaying all signs of a person telling the truth, or what was their believed truth, but Kyungsoo knew that this entire situation was impossible. Even with the polygraph machine sitting on the table next to him, Kyungsoo could tell there was something they must’ve missed somehow. Maybe they’d gotten the wrong guy, or—

“I don’t understand,” Baekhyun frowned from where he sat next to Chanyeol by the table. It was loaded with all types of equipment to record, film and observe Cunningham. And by the looks of it, all the technology in the world would come to the same conclusion as Kyungsoo did.

“How can he not know?” Baekhyun asked, echoing Kyungsoo’s earlier thoughts.

“The hacker must’ve wiped him clean,” Chanyeol answered before Kyungsoo opened his mouth. He had his eyes trained on Cunningham, instead of his equipment. Chanyeol must’ve guessed at what Kyungsoo was already thinking of.

“Taemin’s wiped his memory, and somehow installed a new one in place,” Chanyeol said, looking at Kyungsoo. Theoretically possible. It wasn’t a completely new idea, but installing a new reality into someone’s brain was serious hacking, almost worse than ghost-hacking. It was a complete violation of a person’s identity, and not to mention the serious time and work needed to pull it off perfectly.

Cunningham was obviously the perfect example. Confused, unable to recall anything in great detail, and was in complete denial about the things he’d done. Kyungsoo shook his head, going over to the equipment. The cameras and microphones were still rolling, and he’d go through the footage later but for now, he didn’t think Cunningham would be much help.

 _Another fucking dead end,_ Kyungsoo sighed.

“At least he got to believe he had a kid,” Baekhyun murmured, “what’s the difference, eh?” he shrugged his thin shoulders.

“Fantasy, reality; dreams, memories… it’s all the same.”

That was when Kyungsoo caught movement in the corner of his eye. He looked up, the sudden silence striking him as odd. Cunningham had been in hysterics not one minute ago, screaming on and on about his innocence and his daughter. Now, he was quiet, standing in the centre of the room. His eyes appeared to look straight through the mirrors, staring right at Kyungsoo.

Baekhyun got to his feet at once.

“It’s him. He’s in there,” Kyungsoo breathed. By God, it was Taemin. Somehow, some way, he’d found his way into the Cube and right into Cunningham. Kyungsoo never believed in ghosts, but he thought this was how a possessed person would look like. It was like whatever made Cunningham a person had completely disappeared on the inside, and he was now just a shell for whoever that was occupying him.

“This Cube is secure. It can’t be him,” Chanyeol said, incredulity colouring his voice. He began typing frantically on a keyboard, trying to detect which device Taemin had compromised.

Baekhyun paled. “The lie detector. He must’ve hacked in through there.”

Kyungsoo took a step closer to the Cube. He couldn’t care less how Taemin had gotten in right now. All he cared was that this man, this monster was right in his hands and he had to do _something._ Cunningham continued to peer at him, seeing beyond the mirror.

Begrudgingly, Kyungsoo admitted to himself that Taemin was good. Not a lot of people could hack into Hanka, one of the most secure systems in the world, let alone a Cube in Hanka.

He made for the Cube, intending to go into that room with Taemin. He had to see once and for all, who this man was. How he could target and kill scientists so violently, so explicitly, and yet still leave himself vulnerable by showing himself to Kyungsoo.

Was he trying to show off? Was he curious about the flip side of the coin, just like Kyungsoo was? He was about to find out.

“Don’t go in there,” Chanyeol said, just as Kyungsoo reached out a hand to let the Cube scan his prints so he could enter.

“You don’t know what he’s capable of,” Chanyeol added. Kyungsoo hesitated but for one, fleeting moment. Then he discarded his fear, placing his hand on the cold surface of the Cube. The scan was successful; one of the walls slid aside. Kyungsoo stepped into the room, watching Cunningham closely. Around him on all four sides, there were hundreds, thousands of Kyungsoos and Cunninghams reflected upon themselves like a kaleidoscope.

“Who are you?” Kyungsoo asked. It was pretty much the same question he’d asked Cunningham a few minutes ago. Where the real Cunningham had seemed almost unsure, the man strapped in a strait jacket made Kyungsoo feel like he was on the wrong side of the conversation.

“Come here,” Cunningham said. His voice sounded different now. It was deeper, and distorted. The way a robot’s voice would sound if it were speaking over a great distance. Kyungsoo took that one step closer. Cunningham smelled sour, like he hadn’t showered for days. Up close his hair was greasy, but his eyes… they were unfathomable. Kyungsoo had no idea what Taemin was thinking on the other side of those eyes. 

“I am shy,” Cunningham enunciated the words slowly, “I’m not beautiful like you.” Kyungsoo tilted his head to one side.

“Tell me who you are,” Kyungsoo said, so soft only Taemin could’ve heard it.

“I have been reborn more than once, so I have more than one name,” he answered. Kyungsoo seethed on the inside. More games? After all he’d done? Kyungsoo vowed to himself that he’d cleanse the Earth of this sick man if it was the last he’d ever do.

“I’ll find you,” he gritted, a muscle ticking in his cheek.

“Not yet,” Cunningham closed the small distance between them to grate in Kyungsoo’s ear. _“I’m not done.”_

In his head, Kyungsoo felt a presence coming online using mind comms.

 _We’ve got a lead,_ Chanyeol said. _Get the hell out of there._

Kyungsoo was about to say he wasn’t done with Taemin either, that he was going to get the truth out of this guy if he had to stay in that Cube for a week. But he opened his mouth, and Cunningham abruptly blinked, shaking his head like he was clearing it. He stumbled backwards, disoriented. With one look, Kyungsoo knew Taemin was gone.

“I— What? Where am I? I need to see my daughter,” Cunningham mumbled. Kyungsoo turned without a word, exiting the Cube.

Outside, Chanyeol and Baekhyun were triangulating in on Taemin’s location. It seemed he tried to scramble the data he’d brought in by lingering in Hanka’s system for so long, but Chanyeol managed to narrow it down to five spots, all of them scattered across Tokyo.

“We have to go to all of these places,” Kyungsoo started to say, but Chanyeol held up a hand.

“No, Kyungsoo. It’s too dangerous,” he insisted. Kyungsoo shoved his hand away.

“Fuck dangerous. Taemin is literally out there, at any of these five locations and you just expect me to sit back and do nothing?” he spat. Baekhyun stepped in between them, holding up his delicate hands.

“Kyungsoo, stop. Let’s not be rash here. First of all, you know this kind of information needs to go to Cutter, and Section 9 is going to want a piece of this. We don’t have to waste resources and go to all five places, we can split the number between ourselves and Section 9.” For once, Baekhyun was the voice of reason. Kyungsoo gripped his head with both hands, feeling like he would explode from the tension building in his body.

This was the best goddamned lead they’d had in weeks, and Kyungsoo was forced to wait? But inwardly, he knew Baekhyun’s reasoning was right. Going to all five places would reduce the number of their men in each team considerably, and with someone like Taemin, Kyungsoo needed all the manpower and firing guns he could get.

“Listen, I’ll work on these locations with Section 9. See if we can go through some info on these places first, and eliminate the ones that don’t seem plausible,” Chanyeol offered. Baekhyun nodded.

“And I’ll help,” he said. “You… you get home and rest first. We need you in the right state of mind for this. I’ll call you the second anything comes up.”

“The second anything comes up,” Kyungsoo repeated threateningly, holding up a finger to Baekhyun’s face. He gave a sly smile.

“’Course. You’ll be the first to know. Besides, this should give you time,” Baekhyun said, already turning away to pick up some of the bulky machines. Chanyeol was saving everything on the laptop, about to move back to their office. Kyungsoo frowned over Chanyeol’s head.

“Time to talk to whoever it is you’ve been seeing these few days,” Baekhyun said in a tone that indicated Kyungsoo should’ve understood him immediately. “You can go after Taemin, but there’s a very high chance you’re not going to come back from it. I’d recommend a breakup, except you already know this, of course.”

Kyungsoo sucked in a breath. Oh God. In the midst of all this, he’d almost forgotten about Jongin. _Jesus, no_ , Kyungsoo thought.

“My daughter, I-I gotta get to my daughter. She’s, she’s…” Cunningham’s frantic ramblings were cut off when he suddenly jumped, curling his feet under himself. The contraception around his neck yanked, and the next thing Kyungsoo knew, the monitor beside him gave a long, loud beep. Cunningham was dead.

*

The sound of water splashing over the edge of the bathtub and leaving puddles on the floor echoed throughout the bathroom. Jongin washed Kyungsoo’s arm with a loofah lovingly, relishing in the feel of his skin and the slippery suds. It never failed to fascinate him, the differences between Kyungsoo’s normal arm and his metal arm.

One was tough, wrought for destruction. It was covered in scratches, minor dents and made whirring noises whenever Kyungsoo moved it. The other arm was smooth, and had wrapped around Jongin’s waist enough times that Jongin would always remember its weight, the feel of it resting on his body.

The differences between Kyungsoo’s arms were much like Kyungsoo himself. Some days he came to Jongin fresh from a fight, half covered in blood and dirt. Other days, like today, he was sullen, quiet like he was regretting something. Utterly human, and oddly vulnerable.

Jongin hated it when Kyungsoo was in one of his moods. It made him wonder, deep down, if Kyungsoo was regretting something about him.

“You’re awful quiet,” Jongin said, offering a weak smile. Kyungsoo was staring at the water’s surface, chewing his bottom lip. He responded a second too late, looking up at Jongin like he’d forgotten they were soaking in the tub together.

“I— Sorry, it’s work,” he muttered, flushing slightly. Jongin nodded, continuing to wash Kyungsoo’s arm. When he was done, he let the loofah float in the water and washed the soap off Kyungsoo’s arm. Then he moved to lean against the tub, the water sloshing back and forth with his movements.

“Wanna talk about it?” Jongin whispered.

“No,” Kyungsoo said, automatically, “you talk instead. Distract me,” Kyungsoo sighed, appearing so worn in that moment that Jongin wondered just what happened today. He knew little that could shake a man like Kyungsoo. He also knew that trying to distract him would be useless. Kyungsoo was an overthinker, and had all the signs of someone who was putting too much thought into a matter.

Nonetheless, Jongin wanted to gentle the expression on Kyungsoo’s face, coax a smile out of him. His Kyungsoo was in there somewhere.

“The kindergarten was alright today,” Jongin murmured, “a new girl came by. Her name is Reika, sweet little thing with pigtails and a pink dress. She could count all the way up to a thousand, and made sure everyone knew it.” Kyungsoo chuckled, a little reluctantly. Jongin smiled, feeling his chest warm.

“That’s cute,” Kyungsoo said.

“M-hm. And the kids wonder about you all the time. They keep asking me if we’re gonna marry yet,” Jongin laughed.

“Marry, huh?” Kyungsoo murmured back. Immediately, Jongin wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. But he relaxed a fraction of a second later, when he felt Kyungsoo’s knees brush against him in the water. There was a thoughtful look upon Kyungsoo’s face, and... it made Jongin hope.

“I told them that we were far too new to marry yet,” Jongin went on, feeling his ears redden, “but that I did love you. Enough to last a lifetime, much less a marriage.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes bore into his as he said that. Jongin swallowed, feeling like he was somehow being put to the test. But by whom? God? Or Kyungsoo?

“You know, some might say that we’re too new to even say the L word yet,” Kyungsoo replied nonchalantly. Ah. Had Jongin sprung it on him too early? He frowned; but there was no other way to describe this feeling in his chest. It certainly was no simple high school crush. Jongin had had his fair share of those when he was younger, and nothing ever trumped the way he felt for Kyungsoo.  

“Am I scaring you away?” Jongin asked, going for a light tone. Kyungsoo laughed under his breath.

“Shaking in my boots,” Kyungsoo smiled at him. Jongin had to pretend to close his eyes when he laughed. Sometimes Kyungsoo was so dazzling that it hurt to look at him. Jongin wondered if he’d ever stop feeling this way one day.

They sat in silence for a while, bubbles and warm water surrounding them. The smell of the green tea bath gel was heavenly, lulling Jongin into a drowsy state. He didn’t want to fall asleep in the tub, though. He wanted to savour every moment he had with Kyungsoo while he could still have him, to revisit these moments during the day when he wasn’t with Kyungsoo.

“Starting from tomorrow,” Kyungsoo suddenly said, jolting Jongin from his thoughts, “I might not be able to stop by for some time.”

Jongin blinked at him. Kyungsoo appeared contemplative once again, thinking and rethinking about something in his head. The rational part of Jongin said that this was to be expected; Kyungsoo wasn’t working a normal job and had no normal working hours. The insecure, less rational part of him said that Kyungsoo was pulling away, drifting from him even as they sat in the tub together.

“Okay,” Jongin nodded slowly, “for work?”

“Yep,” Kyungsoo sighed, “it’s gonna be dangerous. But I have to do it. I can’t leave Taemin out on the streets, and I can’t let Hanka have their way either.”

Jongin frowned. “What do you mean? Will you… be alright?” his voice faltered at the end. He hated to appear weak before Kyungsoo, but the thought of losing him in the crosshairs of some battle would devastate him. Kyungsoo leaned forward, tracing his jawline, his throat.

“I’ll be okay. You don’t have to worry,” he promised, “this is no big deal.”

Jongin kissed him, mouthing gently at the corner of Kyungsoo’s lips. Pliant, Kyungsoo moved closer to him, his arms curling around Jongin’s neck. Before Jongin knew it, Kyungsoo was trying to climb into his lap. More water began to slosh out of the tub, but Jongin was uncaring.

He ran his hands down Kyungsoo’s back, sinking his fingers into his entrance. Jongin groaned when he realized Kyungsoo was still loose and slick from their previous rounds earlier. Slowly, he wedged his fingers in deep and stroked Kyungsoo carefully. Kyungsoo jerked above him with a moan, gripping at Jongin’s hair.

Positioned like this, Jongin could see right down Kyungsoo’s back, and he kissed Kyungsoo’s shoulder lightly, right above his tattoo. For one brief moment, he faltered, wondering if this was all… wrong in some way. After all, Jongin was sleeping with the son of the man who killed his parents. But how could it be wrong, when everything with Kyungsoo felt so right?

As if he could hear Jongin’s thoughts, Kyungsoo leaned back, grabbing at his face with two hands.

“Hey, look at me,” he urged, “Jongin, _stop_. Stop thinking,” he ordered.

Jongin’s lower lip quivered. With a frown, Kyungsoo brushed back the hair falling into his eyes with infinite gentleness, bumping their noses together. “Jongin, listen to me,” Kyungsoo whispered, his lips touching Jongin’s when he spoke. Jongin shivered, but from their proximity or his inner turmoil, he didn’t know.

“Jongin, it’s just me. You don’t have to think about anything, or anyone,” he said. Then he lowered his mouth, kissing Jongin. Helplessly, Jongin let Kyungsoo’s tongue flicker over his, feeling his cock stirring between them. He hadn’t known that Kyungsoo was capable of this kind of gentle affection, had never thought to imagine it. If he let his mind wander, Jongin could almost pretend that Kyungsoo wanted him, needed him the way Jongin did.

 _This,_ he thought, _this I would give anything in the world for._

“Put it in,” Kyungsoo breathed at Jongin’s ear. He nipped at his earlobe, making Jongin jerk involuntarily. Waves brushed past their chests back and forth like a warm caress.

Jongin took his cock in his hands, positioning it while Kyungsoo adjusted himself, settling over Jongin. Water dripped onto Jongin’s face from Kyungsoo’s hair, but he kept his eyes open. Kyungsoo truly had a body to behold, all thick muscles and fair skin. He was scarred here and there, but Jongin saw them as trophies, battles he’d won and survived. _My Major,_ Jongin thought. Lord, he was magnificent.

Kyungsoo lowered himself onto Jongin’s cock, thighs shuddering with tension. Upon the breach, he gave a sigh that ghosted over Jongin’s wet skin, sending goosebumps prickling all over.

“You like this?” Jongin murmured, sliding his hands upwards on Kyungsoo’s chest and rubbing his nipples. Kyungsoo groaned, squeezing his fingers into Jongin’s hair.

“Fuck—ah, fuck, I love it,” Kyungsoo moaned, his eyes sliding shut as he sank down Jongin’s length. He went a lot faster than Jongin would’ve told him to, since he didn’t want Kyungsoo to hurt himself. But lately, he was starting to think that maybe Kyungsoo liked the bite of pain that came with the stretch. And the heat of him surrounding his cock… It was enough to make Jongin forget his name.

“Touch me, please,” Kyungsoo whispered, releasing his grip on Jongin’s hair to hold on to his knees. Jongin began to draw lazy circles with his thumbs on Kyungsoo’s chest; every muscle was tensed under his touch and he wanted Kyungsoo to relax.

“No, not like that,” Kyungsoo suddenly said, putting a hand over Jongin’s to still him. “Although you _would_ think so,” Kyungsoo flashed an amused grin. Then he placed Jongin’s hand on his cock, and squeezed as if to make a point.

“Ah,” Jongin said. Kyungsoo laughed, unabashed. Unexpectedly, his ass squeezed around Jongin’s length, and the embarrassment brimming in Jongin’s chest dissipated.

“Think I’ll do more than touch you this time ‘round…” Jongin grinned back, thrusting his hips up without warning. His cock slipped in a little deeper into Kyungsoo; at that, the laughter died in Kyungsoo’s mouth. He gripped Jongin’s knees once more.

“Again,” he pleaded, this time moving on his own volition. He circled his hips sensually, his abs hardening when he curled his body. Impossibly, Jongin felt his cock harden further. So he did move, holding on to the edges of the tub.

Soon, they were meeting each other’s thrusts, with Kyungsoo pressing down hard and Jongin lifting his hips as high as he could. The water moved wildly around them, half of it already spattered on the floor. Jongin couldn’t bring himself to care, fucking Kyungsoo harder than he’d ever done. The friction was delicious, and Jongin thought he might be addicted to the feeling. Kyungsoo certainly loved it, rewarding him with low groans when he thrusted at a particular spot.

The sounds he made was enough to send Jongin over the edge, but he wanted to see Kyungsoo lose himself first. He loved to watch Kyungsoo go delirious with pleasure, wanted to come in his boneless body.

When Jongin could tell he was close, he clamped down on Kyungsoo’s shoulders. Then he fucked into Kyungsoo, pushing him down at the same time. Kyungsoo gave a strangled scream, his eyes glazed over with pleasure.

“Fuck! _Fuck_ , Jongin, do it again—”

Jongin did, this time moving his hips in a circle the way Kyungsoo did. The sensation of it made Jongin drop his head back, thunking on the tub.

At the same time, Kyungsoo cried out, back arching. The next thing Jongin knew, Kyungsoo was spurting all over his chest erratically. Gritting his teeth, Jongin deliberately thrust into Kyungsoo even though his cock was practically begging for mercy. Just a little longer, Jongin told himself. Kyungsoo’s knuckles turned white from where he gripped Jongin’s knees.

“Ah, Jongin…” Kyungsoo’s breathy, little cry was all it took. Jongin spent inside of him, coming so hard he felt it right in his balls.

Kyungsoo remained on top of him, riding out his orgasm slowly. Jongin shivered, little aftershocks skittering up and down his body. But nothing could compare to the way Kyungsoo looked; sated, flushed and sleepy. God, Jongin loved him so much. He palmed Kyungsoo’s cheek gently.

“That was…” Kyungsoo frowned, searching for the right word. He leaned into Jongin’s touch almost unconsciously. 

“I don’t know about you but I thought it was mind-blowing,” Jongin said, voice husky.

“More like earth shattering,” Kyungsoo bit back on an unexpected smile. Jongin’s heart clenched just a little. _How can I not love him?_ Jongin thought. Everything about him was just… precious. Kyungsoo wasn’t exactly who Jongin thought he’d be, but he _was_ everything Jongin didn’t know he needed. Each day they spent together revealed a facet of Kyungsoo that Jongin never knew, and he’d be damned if he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life solving the puzzle that was Major Do Kyungsoo.

They got out of the tub a few minutes later, washing off their cum as the water drained. Jongin attempted drying Kyungsoo’s hair with a towel, and received a swat on his ass in return.

“Stop, we’re both grown men here,” Kyungsoo groused. Jongin just laughed. They could fuck in public for all Kyungsoo seemed to care, but receiving affection was still a challenge.

However, Kyungsoo didn’t argue when they stumbled into bed and Jongin pulled him to his chest, inhaling Kyungsoo’s scent. Kyungsoo just curled his fingers around Jongin’s arm and laid there. _Right where you’re supposed to be_ , Jongin thought, kissing the top of his head.

“Jongin?” Kyungsoo murmured.

“Hm?”

“Remember what I said about going away?” Kyungsoo asked. Jongin nodded, looking down at him curiously. “Yeah, why?”

Kyungsoo pushed at him and sat up, running a hand through his still damp hair. “I… There’s something I wanted to leave you. In case— well, in case I don’t come back,” his voice faltered at the end. Jongin swallowed thickly.

“Don’t say that. Of course you will—”

“Actually, I really don’t know if I’ll come back this time,” Kyungsoo laughed bitterly, “and I wish… God, I wish the timing could be better. This is for EXO, y’know? It’s a really good chance to sort of prove myself. That I can be a leader without unnecessary killings, and still get a job done.

“But I don’t want to die. I want to live, because I wanna see where this goes. With you,” Kyungsoo said, his gaze level upon Jongin.

“I…” Jongin could feel his hear rate picking up. If possible, he even felt his vision darkening as his lungs worked to get oxygen. “What?” he blinked, stunned.

“I like spending time with you,” Kyungsoo looked away, pink colouring his cheeks, “I feel like… a better person when I’m with you. D-don’t you think so?” he asked.

Jongin softened at that. “I do.” And he surprised himself with that statement, because Kyungsoo truly did bring out the best in him and tempered the worst of his inner turmoil. Jongin remembered pushing down the torment of the death of his parents every day, struggling with his emotions while trying to remember the purpose of living. But it was easier now. Because Kyungsoo gave him purpose. For the first time, he understood why people said that love healed.

“So are you saying that while it’s too early right now to say the L word,” Jongin cocked an eyebrow, “it’s safe for me to say that you want to? Possibly in the future.”

Kyungsoo nodded gravely. “A very big possibility. Which is why I’m saving it,” Kyungsoo declared, “I’ll complete this mission of mine. And I’m gonna come back in one piece, and we’re going to be together. Then maybe I’ll say it.”

Jongin couldn’t help a smile. “To me, I hope?” he teased.

“As if I’d say it to anyone else,” Kyungsoo muttered under his breath, getting up from the bed. Jongin laughed, ignoring the way his heart fluttered. Boy, was Major soft on the inside. Had Jongin finally, finally cracked his shell?

“Come back to bed,” Jongin complained, when Kyungsoo crouched to search under the bed.

“Just give me a second,” Kyungsoo said, while pulling out the silver briefcase. Jongin had kicked it underneath, unable to stand the sight of something looking so expensive in his shabby apartment. It didn’t feel safe to leave out like that, even though there were no windows in his bedroom and no one would know it was there.

Kyungsoo pressed his thumb to a pad on the briefcase, and it beeped before popping open. Jongin helped to lift it onto the bed, peering at the contents curiously. In it, lay a… rubber suit?

“This is the coolest thing you will ever own,” Kyungsoo said, matter-of-fact.

“A rubber suit? Listen, I know we were on the verge of confessing our feelings for one another but if you’re hiding some kinks…”

“It’s not for sex!” Kyungsoo yelled, clearly embarrassed. Jongin hid his smile behind his hand. “What is it for, then?” he asked.

Kyungsoo gave him a dry look. He lifted the suit out of the briefcase, laying it out flat beside him. Now that the briefcase was emptied, there were wires and a small screen with important looking words on the bottom. Jongin smoothed a hand over the suit carefully; it wasn’t silicone as he assumed, but something softer. Because it was shell coloured, Jongin half-expected it to be translucent when he slid his hand under it, but to his surprise, he could see nothing.

While Jongin examined the suit, Kyungsoo hooked a wire to it, and the screen immediately came alive, displaying what looked like a series of complex codes.

“Okay, I’m not a tech nerd like Chanyeol but I’m gonna give this a try…”

*

Kyungsoo typed out a text to Jongin in the elevator.

_‘Stop staring and go to work.’_

Just as the doors opened, he pressed send and sauntered out, exiting the apartment building. Even if Jongin’s place was a hundred feet above the ground, he could still feel Jongin’s gaze on him at the back of his neck. He couldn’t tell if Jongin watching him leave from his window was creepy or sweet, but Kyungsoo wasn’t about to internalize that.

 _Because it’ll only remind me of what I might lose_ , Kyungsoo thought, curling his fingers into a fist. Fuck, since when did all this matter? This was supposed to be a friends-with-benefits relationship. No, an acquaintances-with-benefits relationship. Kyungsoo wasn’t supposed to be friends with him, let alone… cuddlers.

 _I wasn’t supposed to care_ , Kyungsoo thought forlornly. Ah, but he did now. It’d been barely a month since all of this started but… Kyungsoo craved the possibilities between them.

He never thought he’d click with someone both sexually and intellectually. They did come from different worlds, but Kyungsoo found it easy to talk to Jongin, and Jongin was always such an intent listener. Kyungsoo couldn’t say he knew Jongin very well, although he was damned sure on his way.

The guilt that constantly plagued never left though. Every time he found himself smiling in Jongin’s presence at one of his silly jokes or his unconscious habits (like chewing his lip when he was trying to figure something out), Kyungsoo reminded himself of the dangers that Jongin could be exposed to.

Jongin had told him that he’d taken up boxing, but there were other dangers. He could be shot at with a gun, or knifed in the back while unawares. As long as there was an intention, people would always find a way somehow. All because of his association with Kyungsoo. And Kyungsoo didn’t want anyone to die for him. He was the Major, yes, but that wasn’t nearly enough for people to lay down their lives.

 _I wish I could just give him up_ , Kyungsoo thought, his mood darkening. It would make his plan to capture Taemin once and for all so much easier.

His phone rang. Digging into his pocket, Kyungsoo fished it out and answered. Without looking at the screen, he knew it was Baekhyun, calling to pick him up.

“Hey, you at 7-11 yet?” Baekhyun asked. It was their meet up spot, just a five minute walk away from Jongin’s apartment. Nondescript enough that no one would think twice to see someone like Kyungsoo hanging around, and it was also located in the heart of a maze-like  residential area; the Nanny Squad would never be able to guess where Kyungsoo might be the night before.

“No, just a couple more minutes,” Kyungsoo replied, noting how down he sounded, even to himself. Unfortunately, Baekhyun heard it too and paused for a moment.

“You uh, alright?” Baekhyun asked. He’d texted early this morning, letting Kyungsoo know that Chanyeol had managed to cross off two places on the list. He’d given the coordinates to Section 9 anyway, and both places had been a bust. With only three places left, Chanyeol had suggested giving up two coordinates to Section 9, and keeping one to themselves. It was either Ginza, Harajuku or Aoyama. And apparently out of the three, only the Aoyama location was in an abandoned area.

“No, not really, I just…” Kyungsoo trailed off, “the risks are kind of just hitting me now. A lot is riding on this.”

Baekhyun made an empathetic noise. “True. You’ll probably never get your dad off your back if you don’t pull this off, and that’s if you survive,” Baekhyun snickered. Kyungsoo glowered at that.

“Of course, I’m betting on your survival,” Baekhyun added hastily when Kyungsoo didn’t reply.

“Fuck you,” Kyungsoo growled.

“Would love to, but Chanyeol’s a bit territorial,” Baekhyun shot back, and Kyungsoo knew he had a sneer on his face. Whatever. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes.

“Look, I’m almost there, and we’ll just… talk in the car,” Kyungsoo said tiredly, swiping a hand over his hair. Baekhyun hung up first. Kyungsoo continued to walk along the streets, dragging his feet. He knew he was acting like a child, trying to resist the tides of fate. Everything about his body felt heavy, fatigued. This was for the best.

 _Right?_ he asked himself. No answer came forth.

For the best… and yet, Kyungsoo found himself looking up at the skyline of buildings, spotting Jongin’s among what appeared to be dozens. Was he still looking down at him? Maybe there was a different way to do this—

A loud honk made Kyungsoo jump. “Hey! Hurry up!” Baekhyun yelled at him from the entrance of the 7-11, hitting the car door with his hands. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes, sighing inwardly. Of course, this was the only way. Kyungsoo had made his bed. It was time to lay in it.

In the car, Kyungsoo found that Baekhyun had packed him a rucksack full of supplies. There were guns, bullets, electric stunners, energy bars and a sports drink. Chanyeol was slumped in the seat beside the rucksack, drooling out of his mouth onto the seat. He probably worked the whole night trying to cross out locations.

“Where’s your suit?” Baekhyun asked, looking at him from the rearview mirror. Kyungsoo caught his gaze as he said, “Left it at the apartment. Forget it, we’re not going to need it.”

“You sure? A little stealth never hurt anyone,” Baekhyun replied, shifting gears. Cars honked at him as he cut into a lane without using indicators.

“I’d like to put a bullet between Taemin’s eyes and make sure that he knows who was the one who took him down,” Kyungsoo replied flatly. That, and he needed to know that Taemin was dead. It was the only way to be sure he was done with all this. Baekhyun gave an approving snicker at that.

“Well, now that’s the spirit! Nothing like murder before lunch, eh?” Baekhyun said, then cackled away. Even Chanyeol gave a sort of laugh, and he was still asleep. Kyungsoo sank deeper in his seat.

“Could you just… turn the radio up, please?” he mumbled. Baekhyun did, and they sped off into the heart of the city.

At Hanka Towers, a team of forty men had gathered. All of them wore black bulletproof vests and helmets, making the crowd look bigger than it really was. Kyungsoo was standing at a table, clearing his throat while he tried not to feel overwhelmed.

“Alright, everyone here already?” he asked, looking to Chanyeol. Turns out the sports drink Baekhyun had packed wasn’t for him, and Chanyeol had chugged its contents. He was awake now, despite his bloodshot eyes. He gave a thumbs up.

“Yeah, did a head count and everyone’s here.” Which meant it was time for Kyungsoo to let everyone know about the plan he’d outlined roughly. They were going to storm an abandoned factory building, which meant they were going to need as many eyes and ears as possible to cover the grounds thoroughly.

He laid out the blueprints of the building which Chanyeol managed to access through the local library’s archives. It was a cybernetic parts manufacturer that had gone out of business sometime ago, and was the perfect hideout for someone who might need spare parts as well as space to work. There were three floors to the building, and a basement so he divided the men into teams of five. Two teams would cover each floor, while two teams would follow Kyungsoo directly into the basement where they suspected Taemin’s quarters would be.

“After all, monsters love the dark,” Baekhyun grinned.

“Very funny,” Kyungsoo muttered. He was starting to regret putting Chanyeol and Baekhyun as his second-in-command (after all, they weren’t exactly the most clearheaded people around), but he didn’t have much of a choice.

After ensuring everyone was clear about the plan, it was time to get everyone their own set of guns and ammo. Chanyeol wasted no time packing on the weapons, tucking knives and guns into every nook and cranny of his vest. He probably weighed a hundred pounds heavier when he was done. On the other hand, Baekhyun munched on an apple, saying he needed to ‘get healthy, just in case’. Kyungsoo prayed he made it. After all, what was a soldier without proper backup?

 Half an hour later, it was showtime. The men began to pack on to Section 9 vans, courtesy of Hanka. Wouldn’t do if they went out in their uniforms and rode around town in beat up vans. Local cops would probably have something to say about that.

Kyungsoo and the Nanny Squad squished themselves into the front seats of one of the vans just as they started to roll out. Baekhyun was the driver as usual, although Kyungsoo wondered if he should’ve volunteered. Baekhyun was not the most responsible driver he knew, and that was on the best of days.

“So. What did she say?” Baekhyun drawled, stepping on the gas intermittently, tailing the back of the van in front of them closely like the jackass driver that he was.

“What did who say?” Chanyeol asked.

“For the love of God, this is really not the best time to talk about this,” Kyungsoo groaned. Inwardly, he was thinking about the gun he had tucked in the front of his vest.

“No, you don’t have to give like, details. But I imagine that telling your lover that you gotta go fight some war didn’t go down well with them,” Baekhyun said. He sounded distracted though, and Kyungsoo could guess that he was probably filling Chanyeol in on the details. While driving _and_ talking to Kyungsoo. All signs of a responsible leader/driver, of course.

“First of all, this isn’t 1942, there’s no war and you need to shut up and keep your eyes on the road. I wouldn’t want to die before we get to Aoyama,” Kyungsoo replied, annoyed. Baekhyun hummed at him meaningfully.

“Guess I hit a touchy spot, huh? She probably wasn’t too happy about it,” Baekhyun trilled.

Kyungsoo gave him a dry look. If this was how Baekhyun was going to be like the entire trip then he wasn’t going to give him _anything_. He was just considering telling the Nanny Squad about Jongin last night before he went to bed but he didn’t think he would now.

 _We’re probably going to die at this rate, I might as well keep this all a bloody secret,_ Kyungsoo scowled to himself.

As Baekhyun went on and on the entire trip to Aoyama, Kyungsoo’s patience slowly wore away. Was she a doctor? A teacher? A fellow yakuza from a different group? Was she a virgin? Because why else would anyone put up with Kyungsoo? Was she into spanking? Baekhyun was on his fifteenth theory about who Kyungsoo’s secret lover was when Kyungsoo finally had it with him.

“Did it ever, ever occur to you at any point in time,” Kyungsoo said, enunciating his words with a slam on the dashboard, “that maybe, just maybe, Baekhyun… I might be sleeping with a man?”

Chanyeol had been chomping on chips. His mouth dropped open, and broken pieces fell onto his lap. “What?”

 _“WHAT?”_ Baekhyun repeated, shouting so loudly Kyungsoo’s ears rang.

“That’s all I’m gonna say,” Kyungsoo pursed his lips.

“No, you’re going to tell us _more_. Since when are _you_ gay, Mr. I-fucked-a-dozen-girls-in-one-night?” Baekhyun demanded. Kyungsoo mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key. Baekhyun being Baekhyun jabbered on about it further, and this time even Chanyeol chimed in. Kyungsoo regretted saying anything at all in the first place. 

“We’re about to die,” Baekhyun yelled at one point, “and you can’t even tell me his _name_?” Kyungsoo started to dig for his gun.

“Hey! Hey, hey, chill out, will you? We’re here anyway! Pretty sure you wouldn’t want to waste your bullets,” Baekhyun amended at once, his voice rising in octaves. Kyungsoo looked around, still holding his gun up. They were slowing down now in an industrial area. Not much people were around; most of the buildings seemed abandoned. If Kyungsoo remembered correctly, Aoyama was right at the very edge of the Lawless Zone. That meant solitude and few intruders, which would be perfect for Taemin.

The tires crunched to a stop. Kyungsoo returned his gaze to Baekhyun, squinting at him.

“I dunno. It’s a shock, y’know. Sir Hetero-A-Lot becomes Homosexual McGay,” Baekhyun shrugged, flipping his collar up. Chanyeol snorted with laughter, spewing chips everywhere.

“Look. If you’re going to be like this the whole day, and even in the afterlife…” Kyungsoo paused, thinking about it. “If we live through this,” Kyungsoo said, “I’ll let you meet him.”

“Really?” Baekhyun brightened. His fingers made a tinkling noise as he clicked them together in excitement.

“Yeah, man. Really? You won’t like… kill us?” Chanyeol frowned. At least one of them had a sense of survival. But Kyungsoo just nodded.

“His name is… Jongin,” Kyungsoo added softly.

Baekhyun dug his own gun out of his vest with determination. “Alright then. We’re gonna catch ourselves a motherfucker today.” He cocked his gun, and kicked the door open. Chanyeol took that moment to clap the crumbs off his hands all over the floor. Kyungsoo sighed inwardly, then put his gun back into his vest.

The three of them slammed out of the van, joining the others who had already gathered or were already arriving. In the distance, Kyungsoo spotted the factory. Nothing seemed to move in these parts, not even a wisp of a breeze. The buildings appeared solemn, like they were cursed to be unmoving forever. It was unlike the heart of the city, where the holograms were constantly moving over the surfaces of buildings to the point that it made the whole city appear lifelike.

 _Eerie_ , Kyungsoo thought. Befitting for a killer like Taemin.

“Load up, guys. We’re moving in. Sixty seconds,” Kyungsoo said. Baekhyun switched to mind comms before putting on his helmet, his presence coming online in Kyungsoo’s head. Chanyeol followed suit, and soon Kyungsoo’s head was filled with whispers, their private thoughts brushing against Kyungsoo’s.

 _We’re gonna surround the place first. Kyungsoo, my team will clear the way for you,_ Chanyeol said, glancing at him. At Kyungsoo’s nod, Chanyeol and his men marched forth noiselessly towards the factory like a trail of fierce, black ants.

 _And we’ll clean the floors with the blood of Taemin’s men_ , Baekhyun added. His fingers whirred ceaselessly; Kyungsoo could tell he was eager to make a kill.

 _Unnecessary, but… nonetheless appreciated,_ Kyungsoo thought wryly.

Kyungsoo got out his handgun. The men on his team began to cock their rifles, flipping down the covers of their helmets. Kyungsoo motioned forth with his hands, looking over at the factory again. Time to settle this once and for all.

They jogged to the factory, its height looming over them ominously. Chanyeol’s team had entered by the time Kyungsoo came upon its entrance, a dark gaping mouth that seemed to lead into the belly of a beast. The flashlights stuck to the mouth of their guns cast strange, ghostly shadows as they moved in. Kyungsoo could feel his heart beating in his chest, half-anticipating mindless robots to jump on them.

Instead, there was only about a minute of silence, before Kyungsoo heard gunshots upstairs. Then there were abrupt yells and screams for help.

 _What’s happening?_ Kyungsoo asked.

 _Men. Dozens of them,_ Baekhyun replied. He continued to speak, but the sound of gunshots in Kyungsoo’s head and ears made it difficult to listen. He decided to push forward anyway, since nothing was happening on the ground floor. For whatever reason, Taemin’s henchmen weren’t bringing the fight down here. Kyungsoo wasn’t going to waste this opportunity, and began to explore the place cautiously, his gun at the level of his eyes. Each time he turned a corner, his finger tensed on the trigger.

One of his men spotted a staircase leading into the basement. Upon inspection, there seemed to be a long hall at the bottom of the stairs, but no sign of anyone. Kyungsoo motioned for the men to follow him while he went down the steps.

Cold, was his first thought.

 _You down there already?_ _Be careful_ , Chanyeol told him. In the background, he could still hear the fight echoing in his head, but it sounded far away now.

 _I will be,_ Kyungsoo promised, _there’s no one here anyway._

Except he was wrong. Not too far down, Kyungsoo saw what looked like a spotlight, directed down upon a large mass of wires. As he approached, he saw that the wires came down from what had to be a hole in the ceiling, and each individual strand connected to… people.

Kyungsoo lowered his gun, inspecting the scene before him. _Guys, I know why we couldn’t find him._

From where he stood, it was the entrance to a square room, with the mass of wires dead centre. Sitting in circling rings were men, the wires plugged into them from the back of their necks. Kyungsoo too had those plugs, but he’d never seen them perverted in such a way. These wires weren’t just streaming their consciousness.

_He’s using human minds to create a network of his own._

The sight before him had Kyungsoo swallowing bile back down his throat. It was the most extreme way to abuse a human mind, to enslave their minds until they became nothing more but moving statues, their every thought dedicated to Taemin’s cause.

He turned away.

A streak of blue light flashed. Kyungsoo froze and fired his gun, the gunshot too loud in the small, underground space. Then there was a flurry of footfalls as his men gathered to protect him. But before any of them could reach Kyungsoo, streaks of blue light flashed again and this time Kyungsoo felt the bite of electricity on his metal arm. The current travelled through him instantly, and Kyungsoo gritted his teeth at the intense pain.

_Kyungsoo, what—_

With a roar, Kyungsoo flung his Good arm out blindly in the direction of the blue lights, and felt his fist connect with something hard. There was an outraged cry of pain, and Kyungsoo relished it. The blue light disappeared, along with the sensation of electrocution. His upper lip curled in anger; Taemin knew he’d come.

“Major!” someone suddenly shouted. And then a flurry of blue lights appeared; one by one, his men were electrocuted. Some in the neck, some in the back. There were grunts of pain, sounds of men dropping to their knees. Their guns clattered to the gun, useless. _Chanyeol, Baekhyun, there’s something wrong here—_

Another shot of electricity jolted him in the arm. This time, Kyungsoo resisted the pins and needles prickling all over his body and kicked out blindly.

 _I think there are men down here, wearing camouflage suits,_ Kyungsoo shouted in his head. He still couldn’t see anyone, but he knew he was hitting _something_. But there was no response from the Nanny Squad, which meant he was on his own. Kyungsoo struck out viciously, losing his gun. Not that it really mattered; he couldn’t fire at a target he couldn’t see.

So he flicked out his switchblade and began slashing at wherever he saw the blue lights. Although he was moving randomly at this point, this seemed to work. There were more cries of pain, and less blue lights. Warm liquid spilled across his hands, spattering on his face and wetting the ground. So much for trying not to kill, he thought with a grimace. The smell of warm blood in the small space was sickening.

Unfortunately for Kyungsoo, it was still a losing battle. None of his men seemed to be rousing themselves. He kept tripping over guns, but there wasn’t enough time to swipe one up and maybe open fire randomly.

Blue lights that had flashed from the stairs began to approach him, and through panic, he tried to move faster. Kyungsoo tried to get back to the stairs, but he could feel the invisible men surrounding him, surging him into the darkness. His knife stuck into someone at one point, and he fumbled with his wet hands for another.

Too slow. A whack around his head had him down on his knees, ears ringing.

Blood trickled from his nose over his lips; Kyungsoo tasted copper in his mouth. Enraged, Kyungsoo managed to get up on one foot. Electricity shot from his shoulder, then more at his middle. Kyungsoo fought it desperately, kicking and scratching for all he was worth. He had never been on the receiving end of an electrocution this intense before, but he was willing to bite his tongue off to survive this. A third electrocution rod came close however, and then all he could see was blue lights.

Hands clamped down upon him. It felt like there were dozens, pressing him into the ground and forcing him to surrender. When the third electrocution rod touched him, he did.

*

_Drip, drip, drip._

Kyungsoo could hear water dripping onto the ground, fading in as he came to. His mind focused on it for a brief moment, before he heard other things. Reluctantly, as if this was an out of body experience, he listened. Whispers. Voices.

He didn’t understand what they were saying but his enhanced brain responded to it acutely. _Codes?_ Kyungsoo thought, blinking his eyes blearily. His lashes were crusted shut together, and they got in his eyes when he finally got them open.

He tried to see what was before him to get a sense of his surroundings. Nothing much; he was still in the factory, if the dark, damp room wasn’t an indication. A single fluorescent light was flickering above him, and that was when he comprehended that he was upright and not on his back like he thought he would be.

Kyungsoo then tried to move his limbs. Nothing in his body responded. _But why?_ he frowned. He looked down to see that he was attached to a machine of sorts. And as his senses slowly came to life, he realized he was held there with a clamp around his neck, wires plugged right into him.

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo croaked to himself. That explained the codes he was feeling in his head. Then he looked up again, and saw countless wires, strung high above the ground and tapering off into the darkness. Somewhere, carried along those wires, was the essence of himself, his very thoughts. Panic rose, and he tried to move again. He had to escape this somehow. He tried mind comms; nothing seemed to go out.

As quickly as the panic built however, his thoughts soon scattered when more codes seemed to stream into his head. At the same time, Kyungsoo felt a part of him leaving, like someone was drawing his thoughts right out of his head, into… nothingness. It was a sick feeling, and it had him in a cold sweat.

 _Fight_ , he urged himself. _Fight._

But the codes kept coming, and he found himself drifting off. Kyungsoo could still see the walls before him, felt the cold permeating his clothes. But he wasn’t _there_ , like he was slipping into a lucid dream.

Minutes must’ve passed. Or hours, even. Kyungsoo struggled to grasp onto consciousness. The stream of data seemed slow just as he heard faint footsteps. Sluggishly, he blinked once more. There was a figure coming towards him. A figure he recognized.

“Tell me who you are,” Kyungsoo spoke, before he even realized it. Did this man even realize what kind of a monster he was? The man had been limping, but stopped at the sound of Kyungsoo’s voice. Kyungsoo noted that his face was shrouded in shadow, a hood and cloak hanging off his shoulders.

“I am that which you seek to destroy.”

Kyungsoo held a breath. He had thought that his voice coming through Cunningham had been distorted somehow, but in truth, this was his true voice. A male’s voice, a little low and filled with some kind of emotion Kyungsoo couldn’t name just yet. But he detected thoughtfulness, as if Taemin was contemplating the use of his words.

“In this life, my name is… Taemin,” he continued, taking a step closer to Kyungsoo. He never came directly under the lights though; as if he feared it. Suddenly, just as it had receded Kyungsoo’s other observations were washed away with the onslaught of data streaming in and out of his head.

“What are you… doing to me?” Kyungsoo choked out.

“I have connected you to a network of my own creation,” Taemin answered blithely, “when I am finished in this world, my ghost can survive there and re—regenerate.”

Which sounded like a plan. But it didn’t add up. Why was he killing people? Why had he captured Kyungsoo, instead of offing him? “What do you want from me?” Kyungsoo asked, with great difficulty. It was hard to think about putting words together, when his every thought was being sucked out like a vacuum.  

Taemin lifted the hood off his head, revealing a head of greasy, dirty silver hair. He shrugged it off as he spoke. “I became fascinated with you when we crossed paths for the first time.” Even though he stood half in shadow, Kyungsoo caught sight of his body. And it became clear to him, all in a rush, why Taemin needed human minds. How he knew to weaken Kyungsoo through electrocution.

Because Taemin was not a man at all. He was a manufactured AI, but a badly made one. His right shoulder and arm had no skin too, exposing the inner workings of his body. His hands had no skins on the fingers. His face, or what it could have been, was handsome. But when he turned, Kyungsoo saw that he had no skins covering his cheeks, and the planes of his face were lined harshly from where the pieces connected to create his overall appearance. Taemin looked like a hastily made science project gone wrong.

“I saw you for what— what you are. A pawn,” Taemin said, meeting Kyungsoo’s gaze. His eye twitched once. If he knew that Kyungsoo had been observing him, he betrayed nothing else.

Kyungsoo frowned. Then Taemin added, “We are the same.”

“We are not the same,” Kyungsoo said at once. His voice was faint, but he hoped Taemin heard the vehemence in his words.

“You kill innocent people.”

“Innocent? Is that— that what you call them? I am as they made me,” Taemin responded, almost in surprise. But what he said piqued Kyungsoo’s curiosity…

“Who made you?” Kyungsoo asked, despite himself.

“What have they told you?” Taemin responded instead. “That the bodies you harvested went to good use? That it was all in the name of science?” Anger coloured his voice. A twitch of his head; it looked uncontrollable, rather than a nervous tick. Whatever Kyungsoo was skirting around was clearly a touchy subject.

“Your arm. It was born from lessons took from my f-failure,” Taemin pointed at it. Between what he was saying and the data streaming right out of him, Kyungsoo couldn’t comprehend what he meant. Or what he thought Taemin meant. _It’s impossible…_

“What are you talking about?” Kyungsoo said, feeling the chill creeping up on him once more. Oh, but he thought he had a pretty good idea.

The data rushing into his head suddenly became a fountain of knowledge, and Kyungsoo was soaking in it. Taemin had to be feeding him information, stoking the fire, the same way he was taking everything Kyungsoo had.

Project 2571 was an attempt at cerebral salvage. But for what purpose? And if they were salvaging someone’s brain, where did they house it?  The answers started coming too fast.

“I was conscious when they dismembered my body and discarded me like garbage,” there was a raggedness in Taemin’s voice. It sounded like anger. “I was… lying on the table, listening to doctors talking about how my mind did not mesh with the shell that they had built. About how Project 2571 had failed. And they had to move on…”

Kyungsoo nearly cried out when Taemin caressed his arm.

Taemin was Project 2571. Or at least, the failed version of it. Taemin’s brain had been salvaged from his human body, and planted into this manufactured one. But experiments were bound to wrought failures. The delicacies of a human mind could not be so easily controlled.

“What a beauty it is. They have improved so much since they made me,” Taemin said wistfully, staring at Kyungsoo’s arm.

“They thought that I would be a part of their evolution, but they have created me to evolve alone,” his voice dropped to a murmur. Like this, when he was distracted, he seemed to speak with no difficulty or trips in his speech. How oddly human. He functioned alright when he wasn’t conscious of how he was supposed to function. But that didn’t change what he had done.

“Evolution? Is that what you call killing the people who made you?” Kyungsoo taunted, knowing he was playing with fire.

Taemin’s lip curled at once. He turned away, hissing, “You’re not _listening_ to me.”

“You’re a murderer,” Kyungsoo spat in return.

“They tried to kill me first. It is,” he seemed to think, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, “self-defence. D-defence of self!” Taemin thumped his chest. He limped back into the shadows momentarily, brooding.

“More will die,” he hissed, “until they tell me what they took!”

And what could Hanka possibly have taken from Taemin? Kyungsoo’s mouth set firmly in determination. “I won’t let that happen.” Ironic, since he was defenceless here, but he could work something out. From what he could tell, Taemin was volatile, prone to distracting himself with the smallest things. He was like a powder keg, and anything could set him on fire.

“There are t-two things Hanka thrives upon.” A twitch. “Money, and you. EXO. Take away both and H-Hanka is nothing.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Kyungsoo gritted out, “they still have Section 9 even if EXO is gone. It’s their secondary defence system, and they’ll take you out long before you ever get close to them.”

He smiled, lips twisting into a leer. “Then what I do with you won’t matter. I can wait, if that’s what it takes to achieve my goal. You are ultimately just collateral damage.” Then Taemin squared his shoulders. The dark tattoos on his skin stood out starkly. In that moment, Kyungsoo thought he looked like the Devil.

“Collaborate with Hanka Robotics and be destroyed.”

Dread swirled in Kyungsoo’s veins. What was Taemin going to do to him? Kyungsoo had thought that maybe Taemin kidnapped him for a ransom, or to simply keep him out of the way. _But he’s psycho_ , Kyungsoo thought. And Kyungsoo was human, where Taemin was not. Nourishing a prisoner took too much time and energy.

In an instant, Kyungsoo understood.

He was a fount of information there for the taking. Taemin would be a fool not to… harvest Kyungsoo’s mind for all that it was worth.

Inexplicably, Kyungsoo’s mind turned to Jongin first. His smile, his kisses. The way he held Kyungsoo in bed at night like he couldn’t bear to be parted even for a second. Kyungsoo shut his eyes. He wished he’d said something to him the morning he left his apartment.

Kyungsoo’s only hope was that Taemin would only extract his memories and information that he had on Hanka, and leave the rest alone. To have Taemin’s taint all over the precious, few memories Kyungsoo had of Jongin… By the Gods, he’d be the first ghost to haunt a fucking robot if that happened.

At the very last second, he felt it. Taemin’s breach in his mind. He’d broken down the last of Kyungsoo’s firewalls, and was beginning to meld with him. It was like having two brains in one skull at once, too much for Kyungsoo to take.

He heard himself yelling, as if from a distance. Then, all thoughts broke, as if scattered to the wind. 

 

 

 


	4. real love is like feeling no fear (when you're standing in the face of danger)

Jongin hung the children’s uniforms onto the clothing line, pinning them down as they flapped in the wind. The children were playing in the background now that classes for the day had ended. Their washing machine had broken down, which left Jongin no choice but to wash all their clothes by hand.

He didn’t really mind, though. It blanked out his thoughts, giving him very little time to think. And for that, he was grateful. Because he was thinking too much these days, about too little. Kyungsoo. Hanka. Kyungsoo. Repeat.

It had been ten days since he last saw Kyungsoo, swaggering down the street like nothing could touch him. He’d disappeared around the corner just as Jongin read the text he’d sent.

_‘Stop staring and go to work.’_

Jongin, in fact, did do just that. He went about with his day as per usual, going off to work at noon and coming home towards evening. He made dinner for one, a nutritious bowl of instant noodles. Kyungsoo didn’t stop by at night or called, but Jongin had expected it. But then Kyungsoo didn’t call the next day, or the next either.

Jongin broke the promise to himself not to call Kyungsoo, but he did anyway on the fourth day; there was no answer. Not that Jongin was very surprised. At that point, Jongin told himself not to worry.

After all, Kyungsoo did say he’d take a while. Four days was considered ‘a while’. Right?

So he called again on the fifth day, and the sixth as well. Just once each day, reaching for his phone the minute he opened his eyes in the morning and found his bed empty. Each time, the call went to voicemail. Jongin’s apartment never felt so quiet or lonely in all the days he’d lived there. It didn’t feel right without Kyungsoo anymore, just like his heart didn’t beat right without him.

 _Ten days_ , Jongin thought in disbelief. He hung the last of the clothes out, and picked up the now empty basin. At first, anxiety clung to him like a second skin. Jongin had to strangle his emotions just to get by each day, going through the motions with a numbed mind. But now it was taking too long. Jongin knew he had to do something.  

He remembered that Kyungsoo had men assigned to him. He’d called them the Nanny Squad affectionately, but they were loyal, sworn to protect Kyungsoo in all ways. If he could contact Baekhyun and Chanyeol somehow, maybe they could tell him what happened. Misplaced his phone overseas, perhaps? Or maybe the mission had gone sideways…

No. Jongin shook himself free of those thoughts. He couldn’t think like this, not now. And he sure as hell couldn’t lose someone he loved again.

Jongin would just have to find a way to get to Chanyeol and Baekhyun. He knew Kyungsoo had an apartment somewhere in the city, but he’d never been. Plus, Kyungsoo hadn’t left the address anywhere so it wasn’t likely that he could go out looking for his place. Of course, there was one other alternative, but he wasn’t too sure about it…

“Mr. Jongin?”

He turned around. Reika, the little girl from his Science class was staring up at him with wide, assessing eyes on the porch. Her pink dress fluttered when a breeze picked up.

“Hey, Reika,” Jongin tried to soften his expression, smiling, “you need anything?”

“No,” she shook her head. Her curls bounced from her two ponytails. Jongin cocked his head at her curiously. She was still standing there like she wanted something from Jongin. Did she need the toilet or…?

“You look sad,” she spoke up again. Jongin started. Well, he certainly hadn’t seen that coming. He’d tried his best to keep emotions away from work, putting a smile on his face when he was teaching the kids and doing all his daily chores diligently. But maybe he wasn’t as good as he thought when it came to putting on a mask.

 _Kids these days…_ “I’m not sad,” Jongin said, forcing a laugh.

Reika gave him a dry look that said she didn’t buy his bullshit. Jongin gave in with a sigh, trudging into the kindergarten. He shucked off the slippers on his feet, and set down the basin in the kitchen, beside the broken washing machine. He was going to have to call someone in soon.

“Why are you sad, Mr. Jongin?” Reika asked. She trailed after him when he went upstairs, where he had to prepare the mattresses for napping time. He began unfolding them, and upon noticing his actions, Reika scuttled over to help. They held out a mattress between them and unfolded it, placing them on the ground.

“I’m just… a bit upset,” Jongin admitted. After all, she was a smart kid and she would probably know if he was lying (not that he was a good liar in the first place).

“Did your papa and mama yell at you because you’re naughty? They do that sometimes, and then it makes me… upset,” Reika replied, like she was using the word for the first time. Jongin laughed. How he wished he had parents to yell at him. Maybe he’d have more sense if they were still around.

“No,” Jongin chuckled, “it’s… well, I have someone I love.” Jongin paused, wondering how the hell he was supposed to put this delicately. He’d definitely have to leave out some stuff.

“And?” she pressed.

“And he left a few days ago on a business trip,” Jongin said, figuring that that was a common enough phrase for kids to understand vaguely. “He didn’t say how long he’d be gone, but he’s been gone a little longer than I thought he would be,” Jongin said. Now they’d unfold three beds. Reika took some pillows out of a hamper in the corner and set them out on each bed.

“That’s good, Reika,” Jongin smiled, “anyway, he hasn’t called is all. I’m worried about him even though he’s really strong. I just want to make sure he isn’t hurting somewhere, without anyone to help him.”

Reika nodded. “I know. When Papa goes away…” she shook her head sadly.

Jongin gave a half smile. “That makes two of us, huh?” he said. She didn’t say anything, just helped him lay out all the beds till they were done. _Pillows done, mattresses done…_ Jongin ticked a mental list off in his head. He was gonna head downstairs next to see if any of the older kids needed help with their food. If not, then he would help the younger ones bathe.

“I hope he calls you soon,” Reika suddenly said. “You’re not you when you’re sad,” she added.

Jongin shrugged weakly. He hoped so too, but in truth Jongin was done hoping. He had learned long ago that hope gave him the strength to hold on, but he was the one who had to climb over that ledge. Otherwise it was a freefall spiral into desperation and loneliness, and he did not want to go there again.

 _I’ll find him,_ Jongin clenched his fists.

-

Jongin’s first impression of the Hanka Towers was: intimidating.

It loomed over him and all the other buildings around him, was made of glass and metal and looked as fragile as it did dangerous. The evening sky hung above the building like a backdrop, casting large shadows.

Kyungsoo didn’t seem to fit into this space, and he wondered if Kyungsoo ever felt like he was out of place here, just like Jongin did right now.

He sucked in a deep inhale. There was no time to be nervous. He had no badge, wore no uniform and it was after work hours now. Anyone suspected of lingering would probably be apprehended by the tight security, and Jongin didn’t want that. So despite his nerves screaming at him, Jongin walked right up to the entrance of the building. Upon stepping his feet into the building, red beams of light focused upon him. Jongin was blinded briefly when one scanned him from head to toe, before disappearing.

When he blinked, he realized they were automatic guns, held in place with steel rods. A number of them littered the lobby, scanning each person entering and exiting the building. The guns would follow each person, before automatically detecting no weapons.

Perhaps Kyungsoo did suit Hanka, after all. Lips pursed, he walked up to the receptionist desk and met gazes with the girl behind the counter.

“Welcome to Hanka Towers. Can I help you?” she gave a small smile, arching an eyebrow. She looked human, but her auburn curls hid the transmitters in her temple. Jongin smiled back, hoping to appear as friendly as possible.

“Um, yes, actually. I’m here to meet someone. Chanyeol, maybe, or Baekhyun?” Jongin asked.

“Alright. Can I have your name?” she asked, taking a slip of paper. Jongin told her his name and spelled it out just in case.

The girl placed the pen down and reached for the phone. Her hand was poised above it when she asked, “From which department, sir?”

Shit. Ah, shit, he hadn’t thought this through before coming here right after work. What department did Kyungsoo work in? Wasn’t it illegal in the first place? Then Kyungsoo wouldn’t exactly have his name on a list…

Jongin had a fifty-fifty chance with the only answer he could come up with. He could either get in contact with Chanyeol and Baekhyun, or security would toss his ass back out on the streets for even daring to approach Hanka Towers.

“Um, Section 9?” Jongin tried.

The girl gave him a long, strange look. Jongin didn’t need her to say anything to know that he was probably fucked.

She reached for the phone. “Just hold on, sir,” she said in a crisp, cool voice. A one eighty difference from how she’d spoken to him five seconds ago. _Ooh, I’m really fucked_ , Jongin thought. Was she calling the Minister of Defence on him?

“Hello?” she said, when someone answered her call on the phone. “Yes, I have someone here for you. A young man named Kim Jongin?”

There was a slight buzz from the phone. She paused for a few moments, listening intently. Jongin could almost swear he felt every drop of sweat sliding down his back and dotting his forehead. Any minute now, and guards would come storming at him, guns ablaze and take him down like some criminal—

“Alright. And I’ll provide what you asked for,” the girl suddenly said, breaking Jongin’s fervent thoughts. He blinked.

She hung up, then met his gaze with a thin smile. “He’ll be down to meet you shortly. Please wait here, sir,” she said, crisp as ever.

Wow, okay. That was all? Jongin nodded silently at her, then stepped away in the hopes that she couldn’t see the confusion in his expression. So Chanyeol was actually coming? Or was it Baekhyun? She didn’t say who, just that ‘he’ would be down soon. And what did she mean by providing whatever he needed? Did he also ask for lunch, or perhaps a dozen guards?

Jongin stood there in trepidation, unable to move from his spot in the lobby. Half of him wanted to run away; he’d never been in a Hanka building before, had never been this close to the company that had ultimately claimed his parents’ life. At the same time, he had to do this. He needed to know what happened to Kyungsoo. Jongin had been running all his life from Hanka, but each time, fate threw them back together.

Jongin was done fighting the current.

Minutes passed. The girl kept a close eye on him, and Jongin tried to act normal. He didn’t sneak looks around even though he was curious about his surroundings. And when two pairs of footsteps came towards him, he didn’t even look up until: “Jongin?”

His head shot up.

He’d expected Kyungsoo, in the back of his mind. At once, Jongin was disappointed, because not one, but two men were looking at expectantly at him. However, his goal in coming to this place seemed to be in his grasp.

“U-um. Chanyeol? Baekhyun?” his hand stretched out for a handshake.

At first glance, Jongin thought they matched Kyungsoo’s appearance. They looked like cyborgs, so many parts of them cyber-enhanced that Jongin didn’t know where to focus on. One had cyber-enhanced eyes, whirring as he looked at Jongin. Must be Chanyeol, he told himself. He was tall; Jongin had to crane his neck to look up at him.

The other man was shorter, leaner. Had to be Baekhyun. One of Baekhyun’s sleeves had been rolled up to reveal a cyber-enhanced forearm. And oh God, if it wasn’t a trick of light then Chanyeol’s shoulder was cyber-enhanced too—

“Yeah, man. I’m Baekhyun. He’s Chanyeol,” the shorter one between them said. He clapped Jongin’s hand for a handshake. Jongin jolted; he hadn’t expected Baekhyun’s skeletal, metal hands to be cold.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Jongin,” Chanyeol intoned, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Get security to stand down,” Baekhyun murmured to Chanyeol, “we’re good here.”

Jongin gulped. So they _had_ called security after all. But they seemed to recognize him somehow, even Jongin had never met them his entire life. Hell, he’d probably remember if he met anyone this heavily enhanced.

As Chanyeol motioned at the girl, Baekhyun led Jongin further into the building, where several elevators were. “C’mon. We’ve got a lot to talk about,” he said, hitting a button on the wall. As they waited, Jongin took the chance to survey the area in awe; the building was spectacular. Truly a feat of architectural beauty; it was no wonder Hanka paid Kyungsoo so well.

“You came because of Kyungsoo, right?” Baekhyun asked, looking at him closely.

“Yes,” Jongin gulped. Had they news of him, as he’d hoped? Or were they still tripping in the dark, just like Jongin was? _Please say they have some type of news, please…_

Baekhyun gave Jongin a strange look; a mixture of worry and pity. “I… It’s not good,” he said in a low voice. He looked away as if he couldn’t meet Jongin’s gaze for long. Jongin furrowed his brows together, feeling his heart drop to his stomach. What was ‘not good’ supposed to mean?

It was a tense ride up in the elevator. Chanyeol scrubbed at his eyes like he hadn’t slept in a while. Baekhyun tapped his foot impatiently. Jongin didn’t know where to look, what to say.

When they reached their floor, the doors opened to reveal an expanse of space, cluttered with unoccupied desks, whiteboards, stationery and the other miscellaneous items. There were also men working at some of the desks with computers, and they looked up when the elevator dinged.

“This, for the record, is not Section 9,” Baekhyun said wryly. Oh, Jongin could tell. Hanka was pristine, neat. This floor was like a festering wound, holding all the things that Hanka didn’t quite need but couldn’t throw away. The men too, looked dangerous. They were too heavily enhanced to truly be soldiers. Mercenaries, more like.

They got off the elevator; Chanyeol went off in one direction while Baekhyun led Jongin in another.

“I-I know, I just thought—” Jongin stammered in embarrassment.

“No, I get it. You can’t exactly say EXO at the reception desk, ‘cause they’d kick you out. Other employees think we’re Section 9, working on a project on behalf of Hanka, but the truth is they got yakuza all over the place,” Baekhyun grinned.

“’Course, if half of the people working here actually met real soldiers, they’d realize we’re a lot more… complicated,” Baekhyun held up a hand and wiggled his fingers.

“Anyway, what can I get ya? Coffee, milk, juice? Got some hard stuff too,” Baekhyun said, gesturing from one desk to another. There were bottles of half finished whiskeys here and there, and packets of instant coffee. Jongin shook his head and asked for juice.

“Coming right up. In the meantime, take a seat,” Baekhyun drew up a chair for him and cleared a desk, putting aside the clutter onto another desk.

“I, um. I hope I’m not bothering you guys,” Jongin said, looking around nervously. Baekhyun and Chanyeol were friendly enough but the rest of the men here looked like they were annoyed to have Jongin here. Maybe because it was so abundantly clear that he wasn’t a part of EXO?

“No, you’re not. We’ve been busy makin’ plans but… we’ve got time,” Baekhyun replied. He lifted a hand, and suddenly he caught a juice box. Chanyeol whistled from what must be the pantry.

“Good catch,” he called. Baekhyun grinned without looking at him.

Jongin thanked Baekhyun when he handed the juice over. He poked the straw into the juice box and took a slurp, all the while with Baekhyun seeming to observe him.

“So… you’re his lover, huh?” Baekhyun asked, his fingers clicking together. Jongin nearly chortled on the juice box.

“U-uh,” he wiped at his mouth nervously, “yeah? Well, I mean sure, but that’s a pretty strong word to use…” Baekhyun snorted derisively.

“Look, if there’s anything I learned, it’s not to be shy about things like this. Life’s too short to be ashamed about the people you love. Maybe for safety, you keep it on the low. But I’d never pretend otherwise,” Baekhyun said, his eyes trailing over to Chanyeol. He was yawning while trying to rip open a packet of crisps, but Jongin thought he looked… in love.

“I’m not pretending. I don’t want to pretend,” Jongin said honestly, “but we’re not— official, I think.”

“Official?” Baekhyun frowned, “I’d say you guys are pretty official. He used to flirt with girls and always bragged about them with us. But with you, it was top secret, classified case files,” Baekhyun snorted.

 _Oh,_ Jongin thought blankly. He hadn’t expected that. Well, then again, he didn’t think Kyungsoo was the sort to brag too. But the thought of Kyungsoo wanting to protect Jongin was heartening. _We started something, me and him,_ Jongin thought.

“Me and Chanyeol knew he was seeing somebody all this time. Kyungsoo wouldn’t tell us who though. Gave us hell whenever the Commander called in to check up on Kyungsoo to see if he’s alright,” Baekhyun shook his head. “He only told us about you on the last day we saw him.”

Jongin gripped the juice box tightly. So they did know a thing or two!

“Last day? W-what do you mean, last day you saw him? What’s happening now? Are you saying you guys haven’t seen him all this time?” Jongin said, his words tumbling out of him in a rush. After ten days, finally, a piece of news. Someone shushed him, but Jongin couldn’t care less. Was Baekhyun saying what he thought he was saying?

Baekhyun grimaced. “Hey, man, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but,” he exhaled loudly, “Kyungsoo’s been missing for ten days.”

Jongin almost dropped the juice box. Instead, he placed it on the desk, his mouth dropping open wordlessly.

 _Missing._ The word echoed emptily in his head. Missing, as in gone. Out of sight. He crushed the juice box in his hand. 

“We were supposed to bring this terrorist in, but instead we got ambushed and Taemin captured him,” Baekhyun went on, “There were forty three of us that day. Thirty five got killed. The rest of us were tossed out of Taemin’s hideout without any of our guns. We had no choice but to come back and regather our strength.”

“So he’s… still there? At Taemin’s hideout?” Jongin asked, swallowing thickly.

Baekhyun cocked an eyebrow. “He told you about Taemin, huh? Guess he cares about you more than he ever let on,” he replied. But that wasn’t the answer to Jongin’s question. For once, he wanted a straightforward answer. He didn’t want to dance around the truth anymore. Rip the Band-Aid off, as it were.

Baekhyun got up from his seat, motioning for Jongin to follow. He went over to a whiteboard, tacked with dozens of Post-It notes and arrows drawn in green marker pointing here and there. Speech bubbles were squeezed up against one another, as if competing for space. Someone had used green marker to cross out some; it looked like crude plans. Baekhyun pointed at a drawn square labelled as ‘Taemin’.

“He got to us that day by kidnapping Kyungsoo. He knew that none of us would’ve seen that coming, and Kyungsoo’s father is too old to lead a coup. So, we decided to get Kyungsoo back on our own, and just yesterday we finally managed to move one of Hanka’s satellites over Aoyama. With the heat signatures we’ve been detecting, we think Taemin’s still there with Kyungsoo.”

Relief swept over Jongin. At least he was still in the country. Kyungsoo was still reachable, in a way. He wasn’t completely out of their reach.

“So what’s stopping you guys from going there again?” Jongin asked, “he’s the Major, right? He’s important, you need to get him back.” Baekhyun shook his head.

“It’s… not that simple,” Baekhyun started to say. Jongin frowned, looking at him.

“What’s not simple about this? You need to put together a rescue team. He’s your leader, you can’t just let this— this sick fuck keep Kyungsoo like a pet,” Jongin said in disgust. Baekhyun’s eyes widened.

“Whoa there, man, you think we haven’t been trying?” he replied, scorn lacing his words.

“We’ve been here day and night, busting our ass trying to find a way to get Kyungsoo back without accidentally killing him—”

All the frustration and anger Jongin felt up to that point boiled over. “You’re taking too long!” Jongin shouted. He could feel his entire face going red. “It’s been ten days, soon to be eleven. You think Taemin’s going to be _nice_ to him? Kyungsoo is dying already at this point, and you’re only just drawing out plans!”

Baekhyun lifted an eyebrow. “I’d choose your next words very carefully if I were you.” One of his hands went to his waist; Jongin didn’t need to look to know he was holding a gun there.

“My point is,” Jongin took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, “is that Kyungsoo’s not safe. Every minute you waste here, is another minute he doesn’t have. Kyungsoo’s alive, but for how long?”

Baekhyun’s gaze was calculating. Jongin waited, barely taking a breath before his hand moved away from the gun. Baekhyun still had that guarded look in his eyes, but Jongin didn’t think he’d shoot— at least not right now.

It took a moment for Jongin to realize that the entire room had suddenly gone quiet. He glanced around, and saw that all the men were staring at him. Jongin turned his back on them, facing the board once again. His ears blazed red. He’d never lost his temper in front of so many people before.

“I know,” Baekhyun said, in a low voice, “believe me, I know. But what you don’t see here is that Hanka has us in the palm of their hands.

“They know that Kyungsoo’s been captured. But for whatever reason, they’re not lifting a finger to save him. I had to go to Cutter’s office yesterday and practically went to my knees to beg him to let us use one of their satellites. And when I requested permission to get Kyungsoo back, Cutter said Hanka wouldn’t provide the weapons we’d need.”

Jongin wasn’t too good at remembering people who were famous, but even he knew Cutter. Hanka’s CEO, a cutthroat billionaire who was as ruthless as he was a strategic businessman.

Baekhyun sighed heavily. “EXO’s still got some weapons, and enough men to make another team. But if this goes sideways, EXO is no more. We _need_ Hanka’s backup and resources, and they’re just not giving it.”

“Why?” Jongin demanded, “why wouldn’t they? Kyungsoo’s pledged his life to the company. Cutter can’t just throw him away.”

Baekhyun shut his eyes briefly. “To be honest? I don’t know. Can’t say for sure. But I’ve got a good guess, and my gut tells me that Kyungsoo knows too much about Hanka, and they’re trying to cut off ties with him. Throw him under the bus, so to speak, and let Taemin finish the job.”

Ah, so that was why Kyungsoo looked so distracted the last night Jongin had seen him. _He must’ve learned about something,_ Jongin thought. Something that he shouldn’t have.

Now Hanka was making Kyungsoo, and EXO, pay the price.

“Even so,” Jongin hedged, “Kyungsoo’s… he’s important. Not just to me, but to you guys too. You have to do something, _please_.”

Baekhyun ran his silvery hands through his hair, his expression torn. “I want to. I fucking want to do something, Jongin. Been sitting out here for the past few days wishing I could just kill somebody, but I can’t and it’s driving me crazy.” He hit the whiteboard, leaving a dent. Stray Post-It notes fluttered to the ground.

They stood in silence, both absorbed in their own thoughts. Jongin couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to let the truth sink in. Things couldn’t just end like this.

 _He said he’d come back_ , Jongin blinked, feeling tears coming to his eyes. Kyungsoo couldn’t be gone from his life like this. Jongin loved him too much to let him go.

“If you can’t do anything,” Jongin said in a low voice, “then I will.”

Baekhyun looked up at him. “What’re you sayin’, boy?” he asked. Jongin pointed at the whiteboard, jabbing his finger at Taemin’s name. All his life, he’d tried to see the good things, tried to give everyone the benefit of a doubt. But this monster, the one who had Kyungsoo, was below that. He didn’t deserve mercy. “Give me everything you have on him. I want a location. I need a plan of his hideout.”

Baekhyun paled. “You’re not seriously thinking of—?”

“I’m going there,” Jongin said, sounding more confident than he felt. “I’m going to save Kyungsoo.”

*

Blinding white. It was all Kyungsoo could see. It was all he’d been seeing these… hours? Days? Months? He couldn’t tell.

His only perception of time was when Taemin exited his mind in spurts, to regenerate or whatever it was he did when he wasn’t digging greedily into Kyungsoo’s mind. In those moments, all Kyungsoo could tell was that he was alone, but even then he felt the brush of another’s presence in the back of his thoughts. Squatting upon Kyungsoo’s mind like an uninvited guest. Thus noise from Taemin’s brain became noise in his brain, and it was pure hell.

Kyungsoo couldn’t shut down, couldn’t stop hearing voices, couldn’t stop perceiving the information running through his mind. He couldn’t even beg for death, since Taemin had completely disabled his body.

He was trapped in his own head, and Kyungsoo couldn’t do anything.  

Physically, Kyungsoo was faring no better. He’d lost weight in the days that had passed. Taemin’s brainwashed men kept him alive by trickling water into his mouth once a day, but it did nothing to help his slippery hold on his sanity.

 _I’m almost done,_ Taemin whispered, an insidious, ever present being in Kyungsoo’s thoughts.

_Soon, your memories will be a part of me. They will serve as stepping stones for when I take Hanka. Anyone who sides with them will be destroyed._

Kyungsoo rose up, trying to shake Taemin off. But you couldn’t shake off something in your head, and Taemin only laughed at his futile attempts. Kyungsoo could no longer remember why he had to fight him at this point, but he clung to it like a lifeline.

_Must resist him. Must resist…_

Taemin’s presence suddenly receded as fast as it’d came. Kyungsoo inhaled deeply, erratically, grateful for the brief reprieve. But being blinded made him nervous, and he tried to use his other senses.

His ears picked up on muffled, far away noises. There were shouts, and shots going off. Kyungsoo thought his nose could pick up a very faint scent; it was oddly familiar. It smelled like smoke… gunpowder. With Taemin gone, he could think. Why had Taemin suddenly left? Was someone here?

Then he heard a metal door groaning open, and incoming footsteps. From the way his mind surged forth like a wave seeking the shore, it was Taemin, still streaming his consciousness in and out of Kyungsoo. But now that he was distracted, Kyungsoo was coming back to himself. The white that had blinded him began to peel away, till he could see.

“Seems like someone’s here for you,” Taemin murmured. He cocked his submachine gun, the sound menacing. Whoever it was, had to be a fool. There was no use in trying to kill Taemin, he was too powerful—

Gunshots. Kyungsoo stiffened, then remembered he was still unable to move. He could barely see too, but his hearing was fine. Water was still dripping from the ceiling to the ground, plopping into puddles. It could almost mask the sound of Taemin’s boots crunching against the cement floor.

More gunshots. Taemin snarled, just as Kyungsoo’s vision struggled to focus in the half darkness.

How did anyone know to attack Taemin here? Kyungsoo’s mind tried to remind him of something, of someone. A friend, a comrade— or was it two? They knew he was here. _I was waiting,_ Kyungsoo recalled. Waiting for someone to get him. Holding on to life even though he knew Taemin would kill him. The question was, would they be successful?

The continuous open fire made Kyungsoo think: maybe. They might have a chance.

“Show yourself!” Taemin shouted. Oh? So they were using optical camouflage? Had to be pretty good if even a robot mastermind couldn’t detect them. A memory continued to flicker in the back of Kyungsoo’s mind, sputtering to life. There was something about this that he needed to remember, something he needed to know.

At the same time, Kyungsoo’s eyes finally adjusted to the dark, taking in shapes and colours. Taemin was standing in front of Kyungsoo, his gun aimed at what seemed to be nothing.

He jerked from right to left, snarling. Whoever was attacking had camouflaged himself so well that even Taemin couldn’t make a move. And the water kept dripping all around them, which meant it could mask the slightest sounds. A footstep, a scrape, the silent click of a gun—

Taemin’s feet abruptly flew out from beneath him. He flipped in the air and landed on his back, his gun clattering to one side. Kyungsoo saw the puddles around him moving, and heard wet footsteps. But it wasn’t still enough for Taemin to see by, so he struck out blindly with his hands, hoping to catch on something. Ah, how the tables have turned. Kyungsoo, of all people, knew that that was useless.

Taemin’s hand was caught. It stretched out in front of him midair, as if someone was holding it up. His other hand came up, and a force struck it back, dislocating his shoulder.

Then his outstretched hand twisted gruesomely, and it was then Kyungsoo thought he saw a flicker of light. A figure seemed to shimmer in the air before there was a loud thud and Taemin was flung to the ground again, as if he’d been kicked in the face.

Stubborn, Taemin got back up, reaching for his gun again. Kyungsoo expected the gun to be knocked out of the way, but this time, Taemin’s left leg was dragged backwards. He fell on his front so hard, Kyungsoo felt the force of it through his own mind.

But it wasn’t over; Taemin’s left leg now shot up in the air, and his ankle was twisted all the way round, rendered useless. A roar jolted Kyungsoo, and he was surprised to find that he could recognize the voice.

“Jongin?” he rasped.

A figure began to shimmer once more above Taemin. It stood over him for one second, as if savouring the moment. Then he bent down and grabbed Taemin by the hair, pulling him up. The figure began pummelling Taemin’s face with a fist, and with each hit, the figure materialized as if out of thin air.

To Kyungsoo’s shock, it _was_ Jongin, wearing a retro-reflection suit. It was blindingly white in the darkness, with blue waves hovering over it. Belatedly, Kyungsoo realized where he’d gotten it; he’d hacked into the suit the last night they saw each other, and made Jongin the secondary user of the suit. Which meant only Kyungsoo or Jongin could put it on and utilize it. Except now Jongin was doing more than use it; he’d gotten right under Taemin’s nose, and was now making minced meat out of his face.

His punches were damaging the suit, and in turn, it could no longer protect his knuckles from splitting open. Blood trickled from his hand, disfiguring Taemin’s face. He’d made a large dent in Taemin’s face, and his skin hung uselessly in large hanks. But Jongin couldn’t seem to stop himself, was blinded by a killing rage. Kyungsoo opened his mouth, struggling to say something.

“Stop,” a voice ordered Jongin. “Jongin, stop! Cut it out, we need him alive!”

Another familiar voice. _Baekhyun_ , Kyungsoo thought, almost sobbing with relief. His wait had been worth it. Finally, someone was going to put Kyungsoo out of his misery.

Baekhyun rushed over to Jongin, tugging him back from Taemin. He dropped back into bloody puddles of water, his body now mangled beyond recognition. Jongin bared his teeth at Taemin, his arms still struggling to reach him.

On the ground, Taemin’s broken mouth curled into a smile. “I’ll always be— be there,” he said, his voice box making strange noises. Then he tipped his head to one side, and his ice blue eyes met Kyungsoo’s. “Inside him.” His body began to shudder and seize. Baekhyun released Jongin at once, pulling something out of his vest.

Instead of going at Taemin again, Jongin stormed over his body and went to Kyungsoo. His two hands cupped Kyungsoo’s cheeks gently, one of them leaving blood trickling down his neck.

“Kyungsoo? Can you hear me?” he asked, eyes teary.

 _Yes, I can,_ Kyungsoo wanted to say.

“Pull him out!” Baekhyun yelled from behind Jongin. “Taemin’s wiping himself clean, and we can’t let him have Kyungsoo too—”

Jongin reached for something behind Kyungsoo, tugging with one harsh motion. Kyungsoo felt the plugs coming out of his neck, and he dropped into Jongin’s arms lifelessly. He blacked out for a second, and he struggled to stay above the darkness that threatened to pull him under, determined not to give in.

 _Can’t die now_ , Kyungsoo told himself.

“Kyungsoo! Stay with me,” Jongin shouted, shaking him. _I want to_ , Kyungsoo cried out in his head. _I want to be with you._

Jongin’s bloody hand curled around his head, pressing him close to his chest. Kyungsoo felt a lightheadedness coming over him, and then—

Nothing.

*

Kyungsoo came to in stages, his heart beating a steady rhythm in his head. He felt warmth cocooning him, and he shifted to burrow further. His limbs were achy, and moving them felt like pushing rocks around. Kyungsoo settled in, hoping to resume his sleep...

Until he felt someone caressing his hair. Kyungsoo jerked his head upwards, sitting up at once. Heart pounding, he blinked his eyes rapidly, taking in the scene before him: white walls, lime green covers and a pink blanket. A familiar rack stood at the foot of the bed. He hardly dared to look at the figure lying next to him.

“J-Jongin?” he croaked, voice cracking. Fuck, his throat was drier than a desert on a hot day. Jongin, however, didn’t seem to notice, sitting up and looking at Kyungsoo like he couldn’t believe he was here. _Same here_ , Kyungsoo thought. His eyes were probably as wide as saucers. Flashes of a dark, damp place and a presence invading his mind went through his head. How had he gotten from there… to here?

“Kyungsoo, it’s me,” Jongin whispered. Kyungsoo automatically reached out a hand, tracing a thumb over Jongin’s lower lip. Soft, yielding as it’d always been. His eyes and their curling, laugh lines looked sad. As if he’d been through some terrible ordeal prior to this. But it was Jongin, Kyungsoo’s Jongin.

“It’s not a dream?” Kyungsoo asked softly. Jongin shook his head, tears coming to his eyes at once.

“No. No, Kyungsoo, it isn’t,” he managed to say, before he pulled Kyungsoo to his chest, sobbing. Kyungsoo gripped him back just as tightly, unable to comprehend this. He remembered dying, or feeling like he was dying. Jongin had been holding him in his arms, shouting at him to hold on. Kyungsoo clutched to him.

_What if I hadn’t held on?_

“Kyungsoo, I thought you’d never wake up,” Jongin said, choking up between each word, “you were asleep for so long, I thought you were gone…”

“How long was I out?” Kyungsoo rasped, pulling away to look at Jongin again. Couldn’t get enough of him, to be honest. How he’d missed the feel of his skin beneath his fingers, the planes and angles of his face. Jongin had snot running down his nose and his cheeks were turning red, but Kyungsoo thought he couldn’t look any more beautiful than he did in that moment.

“You were out for four days,” Jongin admitted, wiping at his tears with his hand. Kyungsoo sucked in a breath. That long? If Kyungsoo was in Jongin’s place he would’ve called in doctors, shamans and the Devil. Anything to bring him back to life.

“I-It was so weird, I couldn’t bring you to a doctor because you weren’t physically injured. Then Dr. Jongdae stopped by to check up on you when you didn’t wake up on the second day and he said he couldn’t detect anything weird in your brain either,” Jongin wailed. Kyungsoo hugged him close, sinking back into the mattress.

Jongin’s tears soaked into the shirt Kyungsoo was wearing, but he didn’t mind. If anything, it reminded Kyungsoo that he had someone who would mourn him, someone who would miss him.

“I missed you too,” Kyungsoo replied, stroking Jongin’s soft hair. Jongin looked up at him, still teary-eyed.

“Your mind. Dr. Kim said there was a chance it could be broken, and that you wouldn’t wake up the same.”

“My mind might be broken, but I’d still recognize you. I’d know you anywhere, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said. That seemed to make Jongin all teary again, and he let Jongin cry it out. He was probably in shock after those four days. Kyungsoo knew for a fact that he was too.

 _Never thought I’d live_ , Kyungsoo said to himself. And he wouldn’t take this second chance at life for granted.

When Jongin had finally calmed down enough to speak, Kyungsoo requested a glass of water. Jongin sputtered and went off to get it at once, apologizing profusely. He rummaged in the kitchen for a bit, leaving Kyungsoo to stretch in bed. His legs sang in protest, and so did his Good arm. But his Better arm was still alright, functioning normally.

By the time Jongin returned with not a glass of water but a jug, Kyungsoo felt more awake now. He guzzled half of the jug’s contents before they spoke again.

“You want food?” was the first thing Jongin said.

“Um, yeah.” Now that he thought about it, he was starving actually. How long since he’d eaten? Definitely longer than four days, that was for sure.

“I’ll call Baekhyun. He said to tell you if you woke up anyway, and that he’d bring food for us,” Jongin said, bounding out of bed to get his phone. _How did Jongin get Baekhyun’s number?_ Kyungsoo frowned.

Clearly a lot had happened in the days he’d been asleep. Oh yes, now that he thought about it, Baekhyun had been there when Jongin was punching the living lights out of Taemin…

When Jongin returned, Kyungsoo was already going through options in his head, wondering what to eat. Pizza? Chinese food? Italian?

“Tell him to get sushi or don’t bother coming at all,” Kyungsoo said. Jongin smiled at that, and dialled Baekhyun. Kyungsoo drank some more water while he was on the phone.

“Hello?” Jongin said, when Baekhyun picked up.

“Is he awake?” Kyungsoo heard Baekhyun yell.

“Told you I’d fucking make it,” Kyungsoo shouted hoarsely. He could practically hear Baekhyun chuckling.

“Shut up, punk,” he said, “what do you guys wanna eat?”

“Kyungsoo said sushi, or don’t bother coming over at all,” Jongin recited dutifully. Baekhyun made some derisive noise on the other line, to which Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. Why come at all if he wasn’t going to bring food as a form of an apology? Kyungsoo lived despite the odds stacked against him; he deserved some quality food as a reward.

“Tell him not to count on it,” Baekhyun said to Jongin. They hung up, and Jongin clambered back into bed to nurse Kyungsoo. Unnecessary, but Kyungsoo wasn’t about to complain.

Upon his fourth glass of water, Kyungsoo regained enough composure to sit up and trail a finger across Jongin’s collarbones peeking out from the collar of his shirt. They looked more prominent than usual; Kyungsoo had to wonder if Jongin had even slept or ate at all during the last four days.

“So… mind explaining how you have Baekhyun’s number on your phone?” Kyungsoo asked.

Jongin pursed his lips. “I went to Hanka Towers to see if your friends knew anything about you. It’d been ten days and I was so worried about you—”

“Ten _days_?” Kyungsoo choked. Jongin nodded gravely, clasping Kyungsoo’s hand in his.

It hadn’t felt like ten days at all. It’d felt more like a lifetime in that dark basement, although Kyungsoo knew that realistically that was not the case. But to be gone for ten days, and to knock himself for another four… Kyungsoo had been out of for a total of two weeks. No wonder his body felt weak, and his stomach growled for food. No wonder Jongin looked like he couldn’t believe he was looking at Kyungsoo.

 _Because I almost didn’t make it_ , Kyungsoo realized. He shivered involuntarily, and Jongin pulled him closer.

“…go on,” Kyungsoo managed to say, “we’ve missed out on a lot.”

“You did,” Jongin laughed lightly, “When I went to Hanka Towers, imagine my surprise when Baekhyun and Chanyeol already knew all about me. Apparently you told them on the day you went missing,” Jongin’s eyes shone with new tears.

“They were bugging me for your name,” Kyungsoo hastily turned away, his ears burning red.

“It means a lot that you told them about me,” Jongin said quietly.

“It means you’re really gay, and you should be getting on with the story,” Kyungsoo said, without bite. He nuzzled Jongin’s neck.

“Nothing interesting happened beyond that,” Jongin’s voice was light, “I went to their office, found out about you, and they told me that they couldn’t do anything for you because Cutter wouldn’t give them the okay. So I… took matters in my own hands,” Jongin shrugged.

“Cutter didn’t give my team permission to rescue me? Figures,” Kyungsoo snorted.

Jongin frowned. “But why? You’re EXO, you’re not just some goon.”

Kyungsoo sighed. “I poked into Hanka’s private affairs. I checked the database and all the scientists who had been murdered were working on a project. Project 2571. It was locked up tight, believe me, and when I was down there with Taemin…” Kyungsoo stopped briefly. Jongin rubbed his arm soothingly.

“W-when I was there, I realized what Project 2571 was. It was Taemin; they’d put his brain into a shell and wiped his memories. Whether for an experiment, or for some other reason, I don’t know. But he wanted his old life back, and went to extreme lengths to do so.”

“And now he’s gone,” Jongin said. Kyungsoo turned to him in confusion.

“I don’t know what happened, but when he knew we were there to arrest him, he sort of just… disappeared. His body is at Hanka Towers now, but his ghost is gone,” Jongin informed him.

“Into a network of his own creation,” Kyungsoo breathed, “he said he was going to build a network and regenerate his ghost there. That’s why he needed me, he wanted to dig into Hanka from the inside out and needed my memories.”

Jongin paled at that. “He wanted to use you,” he said under his breath. His expression was clear enough; unforgivable.

“It’s… We can’t do anything now. What’s done is done,” Kyungsoo said firmly, knowing that Jongin would foolishly find a way to blame himself for this. But there was nothing either of them could have done. Given the choice to do things over, Kyungsoo still would’ve gone to that factory, although maybe with a little more caution. After all, Kyungsoo had to think about the bigger picture. But it did feel nice to have someone think of him as the bigger picture instead. 

“What did he even do to you?” Jongin asked, a little surly now.

“Um,” Kyungsoo prickled uncomfortably. Nothing that he could talk about without making Jongin mad. It’d all been a blur anyway. All Kyungsoo could remember was Taemin’s presence pushing him out of his own head, like forcing his head underwater. Every so often, Kyungsoo would surface but even then, he would comprehend nothing. Just the constant pull of his thoughts, and the sensation of his head being filled with things he didn’t want to know…

Kyungsoo felt a twinge, a memory tugging at the back of his head.

When Taemin had been in his head, Kyungsoo had seen into Taemin’s thoughts too. He probably didn’t block Kyungsoo out because he never thought Kyungsoo would escape alive. But Kyungsoo had seen— something.

“You okay?” Jongin asked, noting Kyungsoo’s abrupt silence.

“I… Yeah,” Kyungsoo’s brows furrowed. “I just thought I remembered something for a moment. Probably nothing,” he shook his head.

“Hm,” Jongin was unconvinced. “You want to shower anyway? It’ll help clear your thoughts a bit,” he offered. Kyungsoo nodded. Within minutes, Jongin helped Kyungsoo to his feet and got him in the shower. Jongin was adamant about helping him shower as well, but Kyungsoo shooed him out.

“I didn’t lose an arm, you know, I can still shampoo my own damned hair,” Kyungsoo scowled at Jongin, kicking his clothes aside. Jongin had, once again, dressed Kyungsoo in full nerd attire. Kyungsoo couldn’t decide if he missed it or still hated it.  

“I know, but…” Jongin visibly swallowed, taking in Kyungsoo’s nude figure. Kyungsoo thought he was just admiring the view, but when he glanced down he realized why Jongin was staring so intently. Kyungsoo’s body was now gaunt, those fourteen days he spent unmoving taking a toll on his figure. His ribs had made an appearance (hadn’t seen them since he was 8), and quite a bit of a flabby skin had settled around his waist. He looked like the after image of a weight loss transformation program.

“I suppose this isn’t the best of me that you’ve seen,” Kyungsoo said dryly, turning on the hot water.

“I didn’t think it’d be this bad,” Jongin said under his breath. Kyungsoo hummed, rinsing his hair. God, every part of him smelled. Jongin continued to stand there, even after Kyungsoo turned off the hot water to slather on some soap.

“I can’t believe he did this to you,” Jongin muttered, putting a hand over his mouth. “Kyungsoo, I’ll never forgive myself for this—”

Kyungsoo slapped a slippery hand over his chest. “Don’t. It wasn’t your fault. I would’ve left that day even if you tried to convince me to stay,” he said, determined not to look at Jongin. He couldn’t stand to see Jongin upset.

But Jongin still didn’t move, didn’t say anything. Kyungsoo eventually swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled Jongin in, fully clothed.

“Listen, Jongin. I came back, didn’t I? I came back for you,” Kyungsoo whispered in his ear, his hands curling around Jongin’s neck. Jongin’s face was red once again, with quiet, angry tears spilling down his cheeks. 

“I just keep thinking about what would happen if you didn’t,” Jongin whispered back. Kyungsoo sighed, leaning his head on Jongin’s chest. He had an idea, of course. Jongin would’ve been lost to the world, floating mindlessly like debris from a shipwreck. Just as Kyungsoo would be if their roles had been reversed.

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” Jongin asked, his shaking hands settling on Kyungsoo’s hips. “Are you still mine?”

Kyungsoo nodded, feeling his eyes water. “Yeah,” he replied, “still yours, Jongin.” He kissed Jongin gently. “I love you, y’know.”

Jongin sniffled. “I love you more,” he replied. Kyungsoo chuckled.

“I’ll let you have that.”

-

By the time Baekhyun and Chanyeol arrived, Kyungsoo was fresh from the shower, eyes bright and hair lightly tousled. Jongin was busy clearing his apartment, having forsaken cleaning his apartment in favour of looking after Kyungsoo. Luckily for him, Baekhyun and Chanyeol weren’t bothered in the least, so long as they could sit down and eat.

“We bought so much sushi that the restaurant ran out of salmon. I hope you’re happy,” was the first thing Baekhyun snapped at Kyungsoo. Chanyeol held up two plastic bags, each filled with five large trays. Baekhyun himself had two bags as well. When he took a moment to set it all down, he gripped Kyungsoo into a quick hug.

“Thank you for pulling through,” he said in Kyungsoo’s ear.

“I’m still going to want all the salmon nigiri you got,” Kyungsoo said with a fake smile. Instead of decking him, Baekhyun stormed off to ‘get the carton of sake in the car for Mr. Gay Diva here.’

Kyungsoo helped to set all the sushi trays out while Jongin prepared everything else; he brought out cups and chopsticks, a trash can and cloth for inevitable spills. He still looked shaken, even though Kyungsoo was clearly just fine, if not a little weak from lack of food and movement. Kyungsoo wanted to shake Jongin and just make him enjoy all that the night had to offer.

“Thank you for having us over,” Chanyeol said sincerely, when the three of them sat down on the ground around Jongin’s low coffee table. It was fine for Chanyeol and Jongin, but the level of the table was going to give Kyungsoo’s back hell by the end of the night. _Or not, if I drink enough,_ Kyungsoo figured.

“It’s no problem,” Jongin said honestly. Kyungsoo could tell that Jongin was quite excited to meet Kyungsoo’s friends despite everything. He wondered if Jongin ever had true friends prior to meeting Kyungsoo.

“Tonight, we’re going to tell you all of Kyungsoo’s embarrassing stories. Baekhyun has a list of them,” Chanyeol informed Jongin.

“And he calls me the Gay Diva?” Kyungsoo snorted. 

“Well, he does like to be organized…” Chanyeol protested weakly. Minutes later, Chanyeol and Jongin were in a rapt discussion about which baseball team was going to win the nationals. Kyungsoo was saved when Baekhyun finally came up, a carton of sake on his shoulder.

“I’m not carrying this shit back to the car,” he hissed with effort.

So upon his arrival, they popped a bottle of sake and dug in to the sushi. Kyungsoo nearly moaned when the salmon hit his mouth. Then Chanyeol brought out little containers of sweet sauce, and it was over. Kyungsoo ate like a caveman (or a cat, depending on the way one viewed it), regardless of his friends at the table. Even Jongin looked a little surprised, but he was always happy to see Kyungsoo eating.

“Right-o, you’re about to tell us things about yourself,” Baekhyun said while pointing at Jongin, when the third tray of sushi disappeared and the second round of sake was poured.

“Um, me?” Jongin squeaked.

“Hell yeah, you. Handsome fucker,” Baekhyun rawred at Jongin, curling his metal hands like he wanted to grab Jongin by the hair. Chanyeol patted Baekhyun’s thigh lightly.

“I um, don’t have much to say about myself,” Jongin said.

“Yes, you do. For example, you can explain to everyone at the table how you got your hands on a retro-reflection suit that costs 22 billion yen,” Baekhyun said. Kyungsoo coughed on a piece of unagi, and had to swallow a cupful of sake to force it all back down. He’d almost forgotten about that.

“Kyungsoo gave it to me,” Jongin replied confidently, “he said I might need it in case of an emergency.”

“And by emergency, you mean putting it on the second you find out where Kyungsoo is and breaking into a madman’s lair, followed by bashing said madman’s face out?” Baekhyun said sweetly, batting his lashes. Chanyeol squinted.

“I thought the suit was still a prototype,” Chanyeol mumbled, swaying slightly.

“It looked good on you,” Kyungsoo said to Jongin honestly, “I never thought I’d say this, but it was like a Halloween catsuit and you made it look like it was built for you.” Jongin blushed at the compliment, and Baekhyun whooped so loudly the whole apartment must’ve heard him.

“How did you even find the place, though? Baekhyun told you?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Yeah. And then he got a small team of men waiting for me there by the time I arrived,” Jongin smiled gratefully. Baekhyun looked like he wanted to throttle Jongin.

“Because you would’ve gone in there alone otherwise, and Kyungsoo would killed me if he found out I let his lover go into the lion’s den with a fuckin’ rubber suit on!” Baekhyun hissed. Chanyeol handed him some tamago, and Baekhyun chomped furiously on it. Kyungsoo shrugged, picking up a half empty bottle of sake and topping up their cups.

“It’s what anyone would do,” Kyungsoo said nonchalantly. Jongin beamed at him like a proud soccer mom.

“Well. It’s what murderous yakuza leaders do!” Baekhyun said, with his mouth full. “And on that topic, I wanna tell you about the first time Kyungsoo had to shoot a gun…”

The night escalated into hours of relegating Kyungsoo’s embarrassing pre-Major days, from the first time he visited Hanka Towers (he went to the toilet about twenty times) to that one time he tried to escape his father’s lecture and ended up falling out of his apartment window (he had the scars to prove it, unfortunately). Jongin laughed so hard at all the stories and hardly even had three cups of sake. The sushi eventually dwindled down to nothing, till Kyungsoo was left picking at bits of seaweed and rice stuck to the trays.

“…and then Kyungsoo says he has this playlist. He used to play it every time he got mad at his dad,” Baekhyun chortled, barely holding back his laughter. On cue, Chanyeol flipped out a music player, and it began to play Smash Mouth’s All Star.  

The three of them shrieked with laughter, with Chanyeol falling about and Jongin stomping his feet on the sofa. Baekhyun had sake dribbling down his chin, for fuck’s sake.

Then someone had to suggest Jongin go down to the nearest convenience store to get ‘pudding and chips for Kyungsoo’. Cackling and almost falling down while trying to put his shoes on, Jongin did leave, and Baekhyun ended up finishing the rest of the sake by himself. All in all… Kyungsoo supposed things could be worse.

When Baekhyun and Chanyeol finally crashed on the floor, hugging the bags of chips to themselves, Kyungsoo and Jongin began clearing up. They tossed out the trash, stacked the empty trays and put them back into the plastic bags to throw out in the morning.

Then Jongin arranged the sake bottles and cups into the sink, too buzzed at that point to do anything truly useful. They changed into different clothes to get rid of the sweaty feeling that clung to their skin, and while Jongin brushed his teeth blearily, Kyungsoo tried to turn off Chanyeol’s music player, which was still playing.

A Frank Sinatra song was on, one of the tracks his dad still liked to play every once in a while on a vintage gramophone. This one was remastered, but Kyungsoo thought he liked it on vinyl better. Moonlight Serenade, he thought it was called.

He was still trying to work the damned player when Jongin shuffled out of the bathroom with bedroom slippers on. “Hey. You coming to bed soon?” he yawned.

“Yeah. Just as soon as I turn this thing off. Don’t want the neighbours complaining on us,” Kyungsoo said. Jongin cocked his head to one side, listening to the music.

“Sounds nice. Maybe you don’t have to turn it off…”

Kyungsoo laughed. “You wanna get evicted?” he asked, turning to look at Jongin. He noticed Jongin had a sly look about him. Jongin bit his lip, and Kyungsoo’s heart skipped.

“No, but I do think we should dance to this.” Then he came at Kyungsoo running, swooping him up into his arms. Kyungsoo yelped, lifted up in Jongin’s arms like he weighed nothing. Damn, did all that sushi not mean anything?

Jongin set him down just to grab his Good hand, and set his Better hand on his shoulder. “One hand on your hip… and we’re dancing,” Jongin grinned, making Kyungsoo sway from side to side. Kyungsoo snorted.

“Since when do you dance, Lord Jongin?” Kyungsoo asked, arching an eyebrow.

“My aunt took ballroom dancing lessons. She needed a partner,” Jongin replied, chuckling.

“Figures. Just say you became her partner because you always wanted to dance like this with someone one day,” Kyungsoo said with a wry grin. On his wedding day, no doubt. With harps and violins playing in the background, fireflies in the air and the full moon hung high in the sky.  Jongin was terribly gay like that.

 “Is this what… gettin’ drunk feels like?” Jongin slurred.

“Yeah. You like it?” Kyungsoo murmured. Jongin shook his head. “Feel like my head’s ‘bout to explode. Stomach doesn’t feel too good, but I’m too lazy to go to the bathroom…”

Kyungsoo laughed at him, nudging Jongin’s flat tummy with his elbow. Jongin was an adorable drunk; not much different than when he was sober, if Kyungsoo had to be honest. Kyungsoo stared at Jongin for what felt like several minutes. He realized he didn’t get many opportunities to do this, and Jongin was timeless art. He was so beautiful Kyungsoo thought he deserved the moon and stars.

“Will you… ever tell me about what happened? In that factory?” Jongin asked, lips pouting slightly.

Kyungsoo’s breath stilled. Would he? He didn’t want to burden Jongin with those memories and experiences that neither of them could change. But that feeling returned once more, the nagging feeling like Kyungsoo needed to tell Jongin something he found out when he was in Taemin’s mind.

 _What was it anyway?_ Kyungsoo wondered. What would Taemin have anything to do with Jongin in the first place?

 _But he did_ , his subconscious insisted. Jongin was as much a victim as Taemin was.

“A victim…” Kyungsoo muttered to himself. Oh, God. Kyungsoo stopped swaying, shaking Jongin by the shoulder. He had one eye closed, and Kyungsoo rattled his arm till he had both eyes open.  

“What?” he moaned, grabbing his head with one hand. Kyungsoo knew his head had to be pounding by now, but he needed to tell Jongin. He deserved to know, after so many years of heartache and grief over the life he would never have.

“Jongin. Jongin, listen,” Kyungsoo insisted, tugging at his face. “I found out why your parents died.”

The silence was jarred between them. Jongin’s gaze was befuddled at first, but seemed to clear up when the words sunk in. He frowned, looking from Kyungsoo to the ground with unseeing eyes.

“I… Kyungsoo, how?” Jongin asked, massaging his temples slowly.

“Taemin,” Kyungsoo replied, “Just as he looked into my mind, I saw into his. He had… lists. Names. All of them deceased. I didn’t understand what it was, until I realized it was a classified list of all the Hanka scientists who’d tried to leave, or go public.

Kyungsoo swallowed, holding Jongin’s injured hand. “Your parents were on that list. Jongin, they died because they tried to go public on Project 2571. Your father was working on the algorithm that protects the file on Hanka’s database. When he realized what he was protecting, he didn’t want anything to do with it. They tried to do the right thing, but…” he trailed off.

“And my mom?” Jongin asked in a blank voice, “Collateral damage?”

Kyungsoo’s mouth set in a grim line, tightening his grip on Jongin’s hand. “She was on your dad’s team. Everyone was taken out within a year. Car accidents, robberies gone wrong...” They never stood a chance. Jongin’s parents had been ganked like they were nothing more but pests. _And my father was the one who did it,_ Kyungsoo thought.

“Kyungsoo…” Jongin’s voice was anguished. His knees buckled from underneath him, and Kyungsoo barely caught him in time. If not for his enhanced arm, Kyungsoo wouldn’t have the strength to hold Jongin up at all in his current state.

“Kyungsoo, I—” Jongin laid his head on his shoulder. Kyungsoo held him.

“This project. I-It took so many lives,” Jongin whispered. It did. It had taken the original founding team out, and backfired on Hanka in the form of Taemin. Wherever he was now, Kyungsoo was sure he was still plotting to take down Hanka. And even though Kyungsoo couldn’t care less about what happened to Hanka anymore, he knew he couldn’t let this project claim more lives.

“Kyungsoo, I just wanna sleep,” Jongin whimpered in his arms. He sounded broken and frail. With what little strength Kyungsoo still had in him, he gathered the man he loved into his arms. When he set Jongin down in bed and tucked him in, his pillow was already wet with tears.

Kyungsoo hushed him, murmuring promises to Jongin that it would get better soon. Jongin’s hand clung to him desperately, his head tucked into the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck.

“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo whispered, “you don’t have to hold back.” Because it was now their weight, their burden to carry.

 


	5. show me mercy from the powers that be (show me mercy, can someone rescue me?)

THREE MONTHS LATER

 

Kyungsoo walked into the meeting room, slightly flushed from the cold autumn wind. The weather was chilly, but it was about to get pretty hot tonight.

He dropped his gloves on the table, shutting the glass door behind himself. At the long table, there were representatives from Section 9 and EXO, alongside Cutter. It was unnerving for Kyungsoo to be at a meeting like this, but he still spotted some familiar faces. Minseok, Section 9’s newly appointed second-in-command. Dr. Jongdae. And Baekhyun was there as well, along with some of Kyungsoo’s trusted men.

“Sorry for the wait. Had to make sure my team was prepared for tonight. What’s the matter?” he said, taking a seat.

“Thank you for coming, Major. Now that you’re here, we can begin this meeting,” Jongdae said, nodding at Kyungsoo.

“I know we all feel that this meeting might be a little bit redundant, since everyone already knows what’s going to happen tonight, but bear with me, please. Formalities and such,” Jongdae said, rifling through some of his papers.

“Two days ago, EXO found traces of Taemin, or more specifically, his codes, in an echo box at the Hotel Orient. It is the first time Taemin has made an appearance since three months ago, when his shell was found without his ghost.

“The codes indicate that he was scanning data, searching for something. By bringing this to our attention, EXO deduces that Taemin probably intends to strike tonight, and it just so happens that Dr. Yixing of Hanka Robotics will be there to meet the Minister of Foreign Affairs,” Jongdae paused.

“Efforts were made to change the location of their dinner tonight, but through some miscommunication between the minister's people and ours, both will be at the hotel tonight. In fact, Dr. Yixing is there already, waiting for the Minister to arrive. Thus, with such high stakes, we have decided that EXO and Section 9 should collaborate, to pool information from both sides to see how we can remove this threat once and for all.”

Oh, Kyungsoo was definitely looking forward to removing this threat. He was surprised when Minseok called him up yesterday to set up a meeting similar to this, but it was a pleasant sort of surprise. Combining strengths, there was a possibility they could wipe Taemin off this earth forever.

“With all due respect, this seems like a summary to me. What exactly is the point of us being here, again?” Baekhyun put up a hand, drawling his words.

“Well, we understand that EXO and Section 9 have come to an agreement about this plan. However, Hanka still has yet to hear what exactly both parties will be doing to ensure the meeting with the Minister goes smoothly,” Jongdae said. Cutter gave an arrogant nod.

Kyungsoo couldn’t believe how much he hated that man. He still remembered how Cutter had practically left him to die in Taemin’s hands, and was now expecting Kyungsoo to catch Taemin. But Kyungsoo reminded himself that he wasn’t doing this for Hanka anymore, was only staying to make use of their resources.

“It’s simple,” Minseok shrugged, “watch the hotel. Entrances, exits, the guests, hell, even their Internet browsers. Taemin’s bound to show up somehow, and we’ll be watching when he does.”

“And? When he does appear?” Cutter asked.

“Attack, of course,” Kyungsoo responded, “there’s a chance things will get messy, but we’ll do whatever it takes to get him down.” As if only noticing him now, Cutter pointed at him with a finger.

“You, Mr. Kyungsoo. You’re EXO’s major, which means you know all that happens with your team, am I correct?” Cutter asked. Baffled, Kyungsoo frowned but said yes.

“Then you are a liability,” Cutter said dismissively, “Taemin has gotten his hands on you before. And if the reports are true, he’s left a part of himself in your brain somewhere. If you get close, I have no doubt that he will make use of the connections he’s made before.”

Kyungsoo gripped his fists under the table. What the fuck?

“But we’ve got a solution for this,” Minseok quickly said, glancing over at Kyungsoo meaningfully.

“Mr. Cutter has a point. Taemin could use you again, or worse, kill you this time. Fortunately, one of Hanka’s many projects rolled in to Section 9, and we can utilize him.”

“Him?” Kyungsoo repeated. Didn’t Minseok just say a project?

Cutter seemed to laugh at Kyungsoo with his beady eyes, turning his nose up at him. “Mr. Do, just for tonight, you’ll have to step down as Major,” he said, standing up. He adjusted his immaculate jacket, snapping a finger. Dr. Jongdae immediately stood and went to the door to open it.

“Because Section 9 has just received a newly appointed Major. His name is Sehun, and he is the first of his kind.”

Kyungsoo’s blood ran cold. He had a bad feeling about this. Even so, he sat in his seat, riveted. It was like a train wreck waiting to happen; he couldn’t do much, but he couldn’t stop watching either. So when a man began to walk into the meeting room, dressed in dark clothes and had blue streaks in his hair…

“For years, Hanka has struggled with Project 2571. We’ve failed countless times to recreate the human body with synthetic materials, but with each failure, we took it as a lesson,” Cutter said, his words unnervingly echoing that of Taemin’s.

The man who had just entered lifted his head to assess the people in the meeting room. His appearance was human at first glance, but Kyungsoo could immediately tell what he was. No human could ever appear so fine, nor move so smoothly without so much as a nervous tell. Everything, down to his finely wrought features to the intelligent glint in his eyes, screamed cyborg. He was, all at once, the perfect man and the perfect soldier.

“Fortunately, our efforts have been turning up impressive results. And at last, after years of toiling, we have created a being. More than AI, more than human. His name is Major Oh Sehun of Section 9.”

 _And if he is what Cutter says he is, then he’s more dangerous than all of us._ What else could be more dangerous than a man who’d had his memories, the very thing that defined him as a person, taken away? When Kyungsoo met Sehun’s gaze, he knew. Outwardly, he was calm. But on the inside, there was someone pushed out of his own head and another trying to wrestle the controls.

Kyungsoo could tell when someone needed his help. And he wasn’t going to leave Hanka until Sehun woke up.

“We’re going to send him in,” Minseok said, looking to Kyungsoo for a reaction. Kyungsoo managed a placid expression and nodded his agreement. Minseok introduced Sehun to his team around the table, then motioned at Kyungsoo.

“This is Do Kyungsoo, EXO’s Major. Might get a little confusing, but then again, it’s rare for EXO and Section 9 to work together,” Minseok said, laughing lightly. Kyungsoo stuck out a hand and shook Sehun’s hand. It was warm, not unlike a human’s. How discerning.

“How will you be going in?” he asked.

Sehun gave a small smile, his sharp features stunning. “A retro-reflection suit, of course.”

It was then Kyungsoo understood why, all those months ago, the suit had fit Jongin better than it did Kyungsoo. Because it had been made with someone of a taller build in mind, not unlike Sehun’s figure. Tall, lean, broad shoulders. Kyungsoo glanced at Jongdae, who flushed as if he could already tell what Kyungsoo was thinking.

“A good start, I think. Let’s catch this bastard,” Kyungsoo slapped Sehun’s shoulder.

Not long after, the meeting quickly came to an end. Minseok ushered Sehun away, probably to take him to Hotel Orient. Kyungsoo took the elevator down a few floors, reaching EXO’s newly designated office. They had all their gear set up here, as well as weapons and the like. Kyungsoo had to practically wrestle Cutter for this, but eventually convinced him that EXO was better off working within Hanka Towers so they wouldn’t have to waste time and share resources.

 _Keep your friends close, but enemies closer,_ Kyungsoo thought. And he all but had Hanka in his lap.

Kyungsoo put on a pair of headphones someone handed to him. In a few minutes, there would be a three-way call between Minseok, Sehun and himself. For now, he was the only one online, so he took out his phone to check his texts.

There was one waiting for him from Jongin. _‘Come back safe, please.’_

 _‘Change of plans,’_ Kyungsoo typed, _‘I’ll be at Hanka Towers, safe and sound.’_ And because he didn’t trust Hanka not to keep tabs on his calls or texts on his encrypted cell number, he decided to wait till he got home to tell Jongin about Sehun. If Taemin and Sehun clashed tonight, it was going to be one hell of a show.

“What do you think of the new guy?” Baekhyun’s voice suddenly asked. Kyungsoo put his phone away, just in time to see Baekhyun walking over with a chocolate bar in hand. Kyungsoo frowned.

“I thought you were on your way to Hotel Orient,” Kyungsoo said.

“Skipped out since you’re not going. I’m still supposed to protect you above all missions,” Baekhyun said. Kyungsoo sighed inwardly. That was just Baekhyun’s roundabout way of saying he was too lazy to go on a mission without Kyungsoo. And if Baekhyun stayed, then Chanyeol must’ve stayed too.

“Will you relax?” Baekhyun scowled at Kyungsoo’s expression, “I made sure to send two other guys in my place. Section 9 won’t know the difference,” Baekhyun said, taking a bite out of the bar and offering it to Kyungsoo.

After a moment of hesitation, he took a bite too. But he didn’t want to eat too much; he had a dinner date with Jongin tonight.

“I think he’s going to be great,” Kyungsoo answered Baekhyun’s question. “Everything Hanka’s ever built is great. No reason for Sehun to be any different.”

“We’ll see tonight, won’t we?” Baekhyun said, pulling up a chair to sit by a monitor. Some of the monitors set up on a wall were coming online. Most of them were feeds from Section 9 men’s helmet cameras, as well as one from Minseok himself. One of the monitors would show Sehun’s feed. When it came online, they would begin.

“I’m thinking about asking Chanyeol to marry me. What do you think?” Baekhyun asked out of the blue, in a thoughtful tone. Kyungsoo almost choked.

“ _What?_ ” he demanded.

“You think he won’t say yes? Hmm,” Baekhyun stroked his chin.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Kyungsoo said, “you just… don’t look like the marrying type.”

Baekhyun had the verve to look offended. “Of course, I am. What does that even mean?” Baekhyun scoffed. Kyungsoo held his hands up in surrender. If his nannies wanted to get married, who was he to comment?

“But you know, we could get a great deal if we all get married,” Baekhyun said, “think about it. One wedding, two couples. Twice the cheers, twice the tears and twice the presents.”

Kyungsoo whacked him over the head. “It’s been like, four months. I’m not marrying Jongin any time soon,” he retorted. Oh, but he wanted to. Kyungsoo would be lying if he said he never dreamed of walking down the aisle with Jongin, or thinking about the kids they’d adopt if they got a house together. They had time though, and he didn’t want to rush things with Jongin…

“Think about it,” Baekhyun insisted, “if you want, let me know. We’ll plan the dates together.”

Just then, Sehun’s monitor flickered to life. It displayed Tokyo’s landscape, from the holograms the size of buildings to the neon roads running through the city like rivers.

“This is Major,” Sehun said, in Kyungsoo’s earphones, “I’m on site.”


End file.
